Save Me from My Dark Side
by Dixie Darlin
Summary: (Followup to That Little Game...) Even after helping save the arcade, Turbo has still become an ostracized member of society and resident punching bag. What results is painful flashbacks, haunting nightmares, and lashing out at the people who DO care. Will his dark side be tamed before he loses everything...AGAIN? (third in trilogy)
1. Outcast

_Okay guys, here it is, the followup sequel to "That Little Game Called Life". Hope you guys enjoy it! Also, I decided to keep this rated T, I had said I might would do an M rating later on, but I decided I could work around it. This does get a little dark in places so just a warning.  
_

_Muse Music: Mostly the "King Candy" theme on the Wreck-It Ralph soundtrack. It's purely instrumental but, dang, it really speaks volumes about the character. Also "Dark Side" by Kelly Clarkson, "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace, "Bring Me to Life" by Evanescence , and "For the First Time" by The Script.  
_

_Nothing belongs to me except Rosie (and anything involving her game Slam Dunk! which came out in 1983 fyi). Harley Davidson does belong to itself, but I made up the game "Harley Davidson and the Wild West Riders" and the characters within. _

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter One  
**

The only thing that kept him from suffering a concussion was his trusty helmet. Frankly, Turbo hadn't (fully) expected to go flying through the air and landing head first on the tile floor of Game Central Station. It wasn't really something people are prepared to have happen to them when they go walking into a place like _Dance Dance Revolution_. The former racer rolled a few feet before coming to a halt courtesy of a video display sign featuring everyone's favorite hedgehog giving his programmed lecture on "dying outside your game". Heh, that was a laugh. Turbo himself had defied death a few times, even been recreated once thanks to that psycho General Hologram from _Hero's Duty_. Good thing they didn't have to worry about _him_ anymore.

Turbo groaned as his ribs slammed into the display and he laid there for a while holding pressure to the area in attempt to subside the pain. This was the second time he'd been thrown out of a game by force this week. The other game had been _Street Fighter II_ and he had to say that one was more painful seeing as how M. Bison had been the one to toss him.

"STAY OUT OF MY GAME, CREEP!"

Yuni had her hands on her hips as she stood defiantly at her portal gate, glaring daggers at her unwanted guest. She hadn't been the one to throw him out, that had been the job of her bouncers. After she decided Turbo wasn't going to get up and argue his way back in, she turned on her heel and went back inside her home.

After a few more agonizing moments of lying on the floor, Turbo decided to try and pick himself up. He winced at the pain in his side, having to support himself on Sonic's digitized face to keep from falling over again. He didn't have to look around to know that people were staring at him; it had become a common enough occurrence this past week since he had reentered society. If they weren't staring, they were avoiding eye contact at all costs, as if they thought he could enter their souls and take over their very being just by looking at him. Whether they looked at him or not, there was one thing they all had in common: They didn't want him around.

_Can't blame them. I wouldn't want me around either. To them, I'm nothing but a game-crashing murderer. I guess I was stupid thinking all would be forgiven after I practically saved the arcade last week. Of course, that was mostly my fault that it happened in the first place, so…yeah, stupid me. _

Turbo heard the familiar tapping sound of Rosie's little sneakers as she ran up to him and he cracked his eyes open just in time to see her reach him. Her big green eyes were full of worry when she saw he was hurt. She didn't even know that he'd been evicted until she came back from the ladies' room within the game and had to ask about twenty people what happened before she finally hitched a ride back on the little portal train. When they were at _Street Fighter II, _she'd been off chatting with Summer and Raven only to find out from Chun-Li that M. Bison had thrown Turbo out while she wasn't looking.

"I'm fine," he told her before she could ask. He was still holding his side and he winced again as he started to walk towards a nearby bench to sit down. Rosie would've helped him but he waved her off, insisting he could do it himself. Her eyes lowered when she saw the "Kick Me" sign someone put on him and she quickly snatched it and crumpled it up to throw behind her shoulder before he could notice.

By the time he sat down, the fire in Turbo's side had nearly tripled…no, _quadrupled…_ in pain. He felt Rosie sit down beside him but he didn't look at her. It was embarrassing getting forcefully evicted from places in front of the wife. He smiled to himself thinking of her that way. They'd had a wedding on the day General Hologram was destroyed, not wanting to waste any more time than they already had. The first couple of days, they had stayed in Felix's penthouse while their house was getting built in East Niceland. Turbo had been rather picky on the design, wanting it to look as classy as possible, which had gotten on Ralph's nerves so much that Rosie had to give the wrecker some meditation lessons to keep him calm.

"You don't…have to sit out here with me," Turbo finally said after a couple minutes, his breathing shallow from the continued pain he felt. "Don't let me keep… you from having fun."

Rosie looped her arm through his and leaned sideways against him, careful not to put too much weight on him since he was hurting. She tried not to pay attention to the looks they were getting from passers-by; it made her sad that nobody was willing to give second chances around here. Oh sure, people were being nice to _her_…when her husband wasn't around.

"Not much fun without_ you_," she replied, rubbing his hand gently.

Turbo flipped his hand over so he could hold hers for a while. "Unless your idea of fun is watching me get thrown on my ass, I think you're out of luck."

Rosie furrowed her brow angrily at that and she grabbed his face to force him to look at her.

"See here, mister, I'd rather be bored to death with you than spend all evening with a bunch of snobs that have nothing better to do than-"

"You're cute when you get mad," he interrupted her with a little smile. "I was just kidding. We both know I'm the most awesome person here, so of _course_ you'd rather hang with me."

She knew he was just trying to lighten up the mood for her sake; his eyes still had that sad look about them but he wouldn't fully admit that he felt bad. She knew better than to press it though, so she just smiled back at him.

"You're a mess," she kidded as she rubbed noses affectionately.

If there was ever anything that she did that could make _him _blush (it was usually the other way around), it was the nose rub. Even Turbo couldn't explain it, but every time she did that to him he'd turn the brightest shade of red and get the biggest grin on his face.

"That tickles!" he was trying not to squeal as he backed his face away from hers. He forgot about his injury when he jerked back like that and the pain flared up again, making him hiss a few curse words under his breath.

"Sorry!" Rosie said, having winced herself when he reacted as such. "You want me to get Felix?"

"I'm tired of bothering him," Turbo grumbled as he hung his head down towards the floor. "He's already done enough for us. I hate to keep asking him for favors."

"I doubt he expects anything in return besides a 'thank you'. Besides, at least you didn't land on your face this time."

* * *

It never hurt when Felix used his hammer. There was a warm, tingle feeling that lasted for a second but that was it. Just one second and all the pain and damage was gone. It was so easy to erase the physical scars, but the emotional ones? That was a different story. Turbo had expected a long time ago that he was never going to be welcomed back with open arms but he had never thought that people would turn against him so actively. He realized he had gotten his hopes up after the General Hologram incident that perhaps he'd be seen as some sort of hero, but that was not the case. Getting shunned like this only drudged up memories of all the other times he had felt alone in the world and it was really getting to be a chore trying to keep them locked away in the back of his mind.

Like Rosie had said, at least he hadn't landed on his face this time. That had been rather messy when M. Bison threw him two days ago. The racer had been bleeding profusely out his nose and he was pretty sure it had been broken. Felix had grimaced in disgust when he saw the damage and almost acted like he was too scared to let his hammer touch him in fear of getting blood on it. Calhoun had thought it was rather funny, as she still harbored a tiny grudge towards Turbo for making her forget her marriage to Felix, but she eventually got the laughs out and then promptly went and chewed M. Bison a new one for bullying people smaller than him.

"Keep this up, and I might have to switch my profession to doctor," Felix joked he was done, chuckling a little bit as he put his hammer back in his tool belt. He saw the pained look in his friend's eyes and immediately regretted saying it.

"Sorry," he quickly added, rubbing the back of his neck in shame. "That was in poor taste."

"No, you're right," Turbo sighed as he sunk lower in the oversized couch positioned in his living room.

The house was a two-story brick establishment with white-and-grey interior and a few splashes of red here and there to break it up. Turbo had wanted a glass chandelier like he had in his old house from _TurboTime_ but of course they couldn't find one. It had been hard enough getting the color scheme right. The bottom floor consisted of the den complete with mini-bar and a giant stereo sound system that one of the Nicelanders didn't want anymore. Cathedral ceilings drew your eye up to the top floor where the loft-style kitchen was. To the left, was a short hallway led to the bedroom (complete with balcony) and a small bath to the side. He'd wanted a sauna but Ralph drew the line at that.

It was definitely the fanciest house in East Niceland, not that it really mattered right now.

"I feel like I'm being a burden," the racer continued quietly, his eyes drifting down to the floor. "I know nobody likes me being around so it's pretty cool that you're even letting us live here, considering everything that's happened."

"Why, it's no trouble at all," Felix told him with his trademark friendly smile. "Besides what kind of friend would I be if I left you to the wolves?"

"A real shitty one."

Felix wasn't accustomed to Turbo being depressed like this. The majority of the time they had spent together during the Hologram catastrophe, the racer had been driving him nuts with wisecracks and constant yapping about whatever popped into his head. There _had_ been a few times where he had been serious, but he always bounced back to his usual cheerful self after the fact. Felix plopped down on the couch beside him, wondering briefly if he would ever be able to get out of it without some help, and gave Turbo a light shoulder punch.

"And it's not true that _nobody_ wants you around," Felix told him in a reassuring voice. "Rosie certainly counts. I like you being here. The Harley Davidson guys liked partying with you. Tammy..." His face fell at that one. "Well, I'm still working on her."

"Yeah, memory erasure wasn't the best first impression I ever gave."

"And Ralph…well, I'm not sure about him yet. He gets along with Rosie anyway." Felix scratched his head under his hat. "Huh. There's gotta _somebod_y out there that doesn't mind you being around."

Turbo stared blankly at the wall in front of him. "If you're trying to make me feel better, you're doing a wonderful job. And by wonderful, I mean terrible."

Felix twiddled his thumbs, not sure what to say. The racer sat silent for another moment before sighing and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"I'm sorry, Felix, you're trying to be nice and I'm being a grump about it." Turbo turned his head towards his guest and smiled at him. "I'm glad we're buds. I've never had a pal before, besides Rosie of course, but she's a girl so…yeah."

He cleared his throat then shoved himself up off the couch. "Want a root beer?" he asked, attempting to be chipper. "When you decide to grow up and join the big boys, let me know, and I'll let you have a _normal _beer."

"Um, sure, root beer's fine," Felix answered, a little baffled at the sudden mood swing. He was pretty sure that it was just a facade, but he didn't say anything.

"Okay, don't go anywhere," Turbo told him, heading for the downstairs fridge on the back wall where the drinks were stashed (he had stuck a few non-alcoholics down there for Rosie to have). He opened the fridge door, the chill air hitting him in the face, and sort of stared into it for a good minute before remembering what he was supposed to be doing and grabbed a couple bottles.

Felix tried to sit up more but found that the plush nature of the couch prevented him from moving at all. He wiggled a bit but that seemed to make him more stuck.

"Jimminy jamminy," he muttered. "Almost as bad as Nesquick Sand."

* * *

_**TurboTime circa 1979**_

"Hey, fellas!"

Teddy turned his head back in the direction of the voice. He closed his eyes and groaned when he saw Turbo coming up to them. Why did he always think he had to come and chat after work? Didn't he get the hint by now that they didn't want anything to do with him?

"Here he comes," he griped to Ted as he finished refueling his car, pulling the nozzle out and then twisting the cap on the tank. "The hell does he want?"

The twins kept their backs turned towards their star player, who came up and put an arm around both of them in a group hug attempt. Teddy had a rather annoyed look on his face while Ted just looked uncomfortable, glancing down to the side.

"Hey, good job today, guys!" Turbo was saying cheerfully as he squeezed both of them. "Boy, lots of kids at the arcade, huh?"

"Um, yeah," Ted answered, smiling nervously. "Must be summertime out there."

Teddy glared at his twin who immediately piped down. He didn't like making his brother mad, and one of the things that made him mad was engaging in conversation with Mr. Turbo-Freakin-Tastic himself. Ted honestly didn't have a problem with Turbo, but his brother hated his guts.

"Hey, you guys wanna go grab a beer?" the star racer asked hopefully, a big grin plastered to his face. "My treat, of course."

Teddy grabbed the arm that Turbo had around his shoulders and threw it off roughly. "Ted and I were actually going to go drive around for a while, if that's okay."

Ted felt bad about giving him the slip but his brother was glaring at him again so he just patted Turbo on the back and said, "Yeah, we were gonna practice, y'know?"

Turbo's smile fell slightly and he took his other arm off of Ted. "Oh…yeah, okay. That's fine." He pulled another grin to show his feelings weren't hurt punched Ted in the arm. "Gotta practice to beat me one of these days, right?"

He hadn't meant anything by it, but you couldn't have told Teddy that. Turbo turned around and walked off slowly, heading to his own car and sticking his hands in his pockets. He didn't know why they never wanted to hang out. Maybe it was because they were programmed to be his competitors and thus were not _able_ to have friendly relations with him. Yeah, surely that was it...not that it made him feel any better.

Teddy watched Turbo go and spit in his general direction before kneeling down to check the air in his tires.

"Dude, he just wanted a beer," Ted told him after Turbo drove off.

"No, he just needs someone to get drunk with so he can yak about how 'turbo-tastic' he is and shove it in our faces that we suck compare to him. I'm not subjecting myself to that and neither are you."

* * *

_A/N: I know TurboTime (according to Disney Wiki) came out in 1982, but I had it come out in 1977 when I wrote my first fic "Going Turbo" so he was around ten years before the RoadBlasters incident. Hope that was an okay first chapter, things pick up later I swear, this is going to be a slower-paced story than the last one. Please leave a review to let me know :) (Turbo said he likes to read them too lol)  
_


	2. Ghosts

_Wow thanks for all the wonderful reviews guys! You are all turbo-tastic! Hopefully this chapter isn't boring, I swear something more action-oriented happens later._

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side  
**

**Chapter Two**

_"Turrrrboooo...Turrrboooo."_

The racer stirred in his sleep upon hearing his name. He cracked his eyes open and turned his head towards Rosie, who was sleeping soundly beside him in her pink nightie. It was pitch black in the room but he could tell she was sleeping because of her breathing pattern. Huh, he could've swore she'd said something. Deciding he had been simply imagining it, he sighed deeply and closed his eyes again, snuggling back down in the blankets.

_"Turrrboooo...Waaaake uuuuup."_

Turbo popped his eyes wide open, definitely hearing something _that_ time. Carefully sitting up in bed as to not disturb his wife, he concentrated on listening for the voice again. It had been but a whisper, crackly in nature, but it had been loud enough to wake him up. Why didn't Rosie wake up? Surely she'd heard it if _he'd_ heard it.

"He-hello?" he asked quietly, his own voice sounding like a yell in the quiet room. "Someone there?"

No one answered. He felt a trickle of fear crawl down his spine. Was someone in their room? Who would want to break in? Granted, it was a nice house but he had never once dealt with intruders back when he had the big house in _TurboTime_, and _that_ had been a small mansion.

_"Tuuurnn on the liiiiiightsssss."_

Like hell he was going to turn the lights on!

"Rosie?" he said shakily, reaching his hand down to rub her shoulder in attempt to wake her up. "Rosie, someone's in here!"

She didn't answer, just pulled the covers tighter to her and sighed in her sleep.

_"Tuurrrbooo...weeee miiiiissssed youuu..."_

He tried to swallow but found his mouth was too dry to accomplish even that simple feat. The voice had this creepy unnerving echo to it, like it was more than one person talking. The only other thing he could hear was the sound of his heart banging in his eardrums. He gripped tightly on the edge of the blanket, sweat beading on his forehead.

"All right, who's there?" he asked, trying to sound braver than he felt. "Who are you?"

_"Awwww, yoouuuu foorrgot aaabout ussss?"_

Lightening flashed outside the window (when did Felix's game have lightening in it?) and that's when he finally saw them standing at the foot of the bed. His eyes nearly came out of his head and every nerve in his body went numb. A paralyzing fear overcame him.

"No," he gasped as he recoiled in horror. "No, you...you're dead!"

They were both drenched in blood, large blackened wounds on their faces and arms where they had tried to defend themselves. Their purple suits were ragged and worn, their helmets cracked in places. They both wore identical sharp-toothed grins plastered to their decomposing faces and their glowing eyes were staring blankly towards him. The only difference in the two was that one's head was slightly crooked at an unnatural angle, implying that the neck had been broken.

"_Thaattssss riiight_," they spoke in unison as they slowly crept closer to the bed. The sound of their stiff muscles creaking as they walked was gag-inducing. "_Youuu rememberrrr now. Youuu KILLED ussss!"_

The color from his face drained and he found himself unable to bolt from the bed as if someone had chained him down to it, his eyes glued to his former competitors. They shuffled closer to the bed, their menacing grins never fading.

_"Aaaand now..." _They both pointed at him with a twitching rotted finger_. "Weee willll kill YOU!"_

They both floated slowly off the carpet, mouths open to show off all their teeth, and with arms outstretched they rushed at him.

* * *

Rosie jerked up from her sleep when she heard the blood-curdling scream next to her, blinking in confusion. All she could see in the dark was Turbo's literally glowing eyes, a look of absolute fear in them as they stared blankly ahead of him, him having popped up to sitting position in his sleep. Quickly, she reached over and jerked the chain on the lamp beside her to lighten the room up.

"Good God, champ, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly, putting a hand on his back and realized he'd soaked sweat right through his t-shirt and he was shivering like he had the death of cold.

"Where, where'd they go?" he stammered, twisting his head around the room frantically.

Before she could ask for clarification, Turbo leaned over the bed to look under it and then over the foot of the bed. He slid out of the covers and went over to the bathroom, grabbing the door handle and swinging it open with force and examined the inside of it. When that room was clear, he jogged to the door that led to the hallway and looked around out there. He seemed confused to not find anything.

"They, they were just h-here!" he was insisting as he finally sat back down on the mattress, the fearful look still present in his eyes. He was shaking like a leaf and his breathing was on the verge of hyperventilation.

"Who? Who was here?" Rosie asked crawling out of the covers to scoot up closer to him.

"The _twins_!" he spat out, darting his eyes around the room as he said it.

She started when he said that. "Ted and Teddy?"

"Th-they wanted to k-k-kill me," Turbo continued, his eyes getting wet as he looked down at his hands. "For r-r-r-revenge."

Rosie frowned at him and wrapped her arms around him in a sideways hug. "Baby, it was a bad dream," she told him softly. "They can't hurt you."

"B-b-but it...it was...so _real," _he whimpered as he leaned into her embrace, resting his head against her chest and curled his legs up to his stomach.

She kissed the top of his head and held him there while he finished shaking off the aftershock of the nightmare. They had never discussed the twins' homicides, though he'd practically come out and told her that he _was_ in fact a murderer. Rosie never asked him once about the details, not caring to hear about something he'd done so long ago when he wasn't even acting like himself. Resting her head on top of his and rubbing his back soothingly, she felt him start to breathe more calmly.

"You want to talk about it?" she offered gently.

Turbo's eyes grew big as the memory slapped him in the face.

* * *

_Turbo listened to Teddy laugh. He sat there for a maybe a minute, his mind growing more blank as he did. He ripped the shift-change stick out of his car and hopped out. Teddy didn't even see him coming until he was nearly on top of him. He quit laughing._

_"Whoa, wait, what the hell are you doing?" Teddy asked right before Turbo jumped into the car with him and started beating him with the stick. "Stop it, you'll kill me!"_

_"Shut up!" He kept hitting him in the face, over and over. Teddy was desperately trying to protect himself to no avail._

_"Turbo, stop, please! I'm begging you, stop!"_

* * *

Turbo closed his eyes and forced it back in his mind's cluttered basement, then shook his head at Rosie's question.

"No," he said decisively, his eyes closed as he tried to relax. "You don't want to hear about that."

That was his way of saying he wasn't ready to relive it enough to give a verbal account. Rosie wasn't going to press the matter, knowing it was a highly sensitive subject. She gave him another kiss on his head.

"You know you come to me about anything, okay?" she wanted to make sure he understood. "Love you."

Turbo smiled in spite of his mood. He never got sick of hearing that. "Love you too."

She paused a minute before she decided to add, "You know, I used to wake up screaming from bad dreams too. They were always about you."

He shouldn't have been surprised but it still hurt to know that even in her sleep she couldn't escape the pain she'd felt from losing him so many years ago. He hated himself for believing that lie Teddy had told him, about her dying in _RoadBlasters_ when it got unplugged due to her having run in there to stop Turbo from doing something stupid. He had never seen her in there of course, as she _hadn't_ gone in, but still the both of them spent a quarter of a century thinking that the other was dead.

"What did I do in them?" He dreaded asking but he felt he needed to know.

Rosie swallowed, the memory of the nightmare making her sad all over again. "Well...normally you would be dying and just out of my reach. And you'd be screaming at me why I didn't stop you from...you know...doing what you did. You always disappeared into bits of code before I could get to you."

She felt her throat tighten just thinking about it but she forced herself to calm down since, obviously, he was alive. Turbo felt sick to his stomach. He used to have similar dreams about her as well, where she'd be screaming for him to save her but he couldn't. Those had been the worst. Both of them had also had good dreams about each other that were happy and peaceful, but those had been almost worse than the bad ones since, when they woke up, reality had returned and their beloved was no longer with them.

"I had those too," he said just above a whisper.

Rosie sighed and gave him a squeeze. "It always helped me to take quick cold rinse in the shower," she suggested, raking her fingers through his short hair. "Might help calm you down or at least get your mind off it."

* * *

The cool water hitting him felt like heaven, helping wash away the remnants of the nightmare he'd had and bringing him back to reality. It still shook him at how real it felt, everything from the texture of the bedsheets to the sound of the voices he heard.

The _twins_, damn, he hadn't given much thought to them in a long time. He could still see the terrified looks on their faces when he'd beat them to death, right after coming back to _TurboTime_ from _RoadBlasters_. Even Teddy, who was never afraid of anything had been frightened in his final minutes of life. Ted's death had been quicker, having snapped his neck after knocking him out and stealing his uniform so Turbo could escape into the Grand Central Station. Ted hadn't been that bad of a guy, admittedly, but he had to go too...couldn't chance any witnesses.

Oh but_, Teddy_. He had always hated Turbo, even though he had never done anything to deserve it. All he did was win races all the time and Teddy grew so bitter and jealous that he hacked into their Code Room and altered Turbo's code to make him slow down. Afterwards, no one wanted to play _TurboTime_ anymore because no one could ever win the game and moved on to _RoadBlasters_ instead. According to the little jerk, he had gotten the Universal Code from the _RoadBlasters_ driver, Rocky, who Turbo had run over multiple times when he crashed the game.

Ah, Rocky and his damn better graphics and faster car and rock music. Rocky, who had humiliated him by beating him in a race at Turbo's own track. Rocky, who had assisted Teddy by being the provider of the Universal Code.

Everyone thought Turbo had tried to take over _RoadBlasters_; that wasn't the case at all. He had went there to crash it on purpose in order to save his own game from becoming obsolete. He had to ensure that _TurboTime_ stayed plugged in and the only way to do that was to kill the competition.

Unfortunately, it backfired and _both_ games went under.

Yes, he was a murderer. Did he regret it? Sometimes. Okay, Ted's anyway since, again, he wasn't that bad. The other two...they ruined his life. Turbo felt his fists curl up just thinking about it. He would have still been Litwak's most popular game if not for them. His name would not have been dragged in the mud and become a euphenism for the horrors of game-jumping if not for them. He and Rosie wouldn't have been separated for so long if not for them. He wouldn't have had to commandeer _Sugar Rush_ if not-

"Champ, you okay in there?"

Rosie's voice knocked him out of his thoughts. How long had he been in there? He realized he was freezing now from the formerly refreshing cool water and he shut it off, wiping the excess off his face and reaching out for the towel to dry off. He slipped into a fresh white tee, boxers and red pajama pants, turned the bathroom light out and went to go lay back down.

Once back under the covers, Turbo rolled up on his side and pulled Rosie closer to him to spoon and held her there almost like she was a shield from any potential nightmares that might occur that night. He thought for a brief second to get it off his chest about the twins but he dismissed it before the thought even finished crossing his mind. No need to drag her into his darkness.

_She would be afraid of me if she knew what violence I was capable of...she'd hate me.  
_

Rosie scooted back so she could snuggle better, her arms tangled up in his as he held her. She could feel him breathing where he had rested his face against the back part of her neck. Eventually she felt him drift off, hoping that he'd stay asleep, and she finally let herself go back to sleep as well.

* * *

Rosie didn't even stir when he got up a couple hours later. Using the light dimmer on the wall, Turbo lowered the glare on the recessed lighting so it wouldn't hurt his eyes from exiting a pitch black room. He proceeded to sleepily tromp his way down the stairs, scratching his back and yawning as he did so, and stopped when he reached the beer fridge. He opened it and squinted his eyes a bit when the brighter light inside hit him, reached in and grabbed a beer from the shelf and then closed the fridge door. He hadn't been able to fully to go back to sleep, still restless from the nightmare about the Ghost Twins.

Beer would make it better. It always had before.

He popped the cap and pressed the bottle to his lips, tilting his head back to allow the contents to pour down his throat. He finished it faster than he thought he would, quietly placed in the garbage so it wouldn't make noise, and went to grab another one. After popping the cap from that one, he stared down into it as the liquid inside swished about gently, as if it were telling him that it was his best friend and it would never hurt him. He thought about this past week and how humiliating and hurtful it was to be treated this way, like he was a monster. Maybe he _was_. He clenched the bottle in his hand and proceeded to guzzle it down.

Two would enough...for now.

* * *

**_The Early Years_**

_It didn't take long for Turbo to get drunk. It never did. Beer was the next best thing after racing and winning trophies because where the beer was, that's were other people were. Turbo would practically drown in beer just to stick around longer and not be so damn lonely, talking to everybody that walked by whether they wanted to talk back or not. Of course, he didn't really realize that he WAS lonely because...well, when that's all you know, you don't see it as anything unusual._

_Most everybody thought he was annoying (the guy could chat your ears off) but dang if he didn't throw a good party. The only reasons people came over was one, the parties because they were usually wild and he did have a nice house; and two, the after-hours races were fun to watch even if Turbo did win 99.9 percent of them._

_He didn't do this every night...drinking and partying that is. Some nights he'd stay at home alone with his trophies, shining them up, rearranging them in their display cases, reminding himself that he was worth it. He might have come across as prideful about winning, but shit when that's all you have to live for, anybody would come across as prideful. Trophies were his security blanket. Anytime he felt the least bit of self-doubt, all he had to do was walk into one of his Trophy Rooms and instantly feel better. Vain? Perhaps. But they were all he had.  
_

_That and beer.  
_

_Didn't he have any friends? More like acquaintances, but that's kinda the same thing, right? Girlfriends? Oh, let's not get started on those. He definitely liked the ladies but they didn't exactly like him back. Not all the time, anyway. He'd been slapped on more than one occasion trying out a new pick-up line and if he was lucky enough to get one in bed with him, it was because either he was drunk or they both were. They never hung around too long afterwards. They were only there for the party, you know, or at least to brag that they slept with Mr. Most Popular Game. Half of them he couldn't even remember._

_Regardless, he lived in his own little fantasy world that he was just as adored amongst other game characters as he was with the real-life gamers. An ego fed by false friends and golden idols were the core of his early life. Not that he saw it that way. If people didn't like him, they wouldn't have anything to do with him, right?_


	3. Dinner and a Show

**Save Me from My Dark Side  
**

**Chapter Three**

The unmistakable and familiar smell of smoke woke him up. _Fast._ Oh shit, he was back in the volcano! Or the burning library from _Brave Firefighters_! Just _thinking_ about it made his code scream with agony. No way was he going through _that_ again!

Turbo popped his eyes open and kicked the covers off him frantically before accidentally falling out of the bed rather hard on his bottom. That's when he realized that he was still in his bedroom. Wait, the bedroom? Holy hot wheels, was the house on fire? He scrambled to his knees and looked around the room, fearing it was covered in blazes.

There wasn't any fire that he could see but there was definitely smoke and lots of it. Smoke meant fire. Fire meant pain. Turbo didn't want any more of that in his life. The memory of being burned alive came to him full force and he shuddered involuntarily.

"Honey?" he asked, pulling himself up with the mattress to peek onto the bed.

Rosie wasn't in the bed anymore, so obviously she was elsewhere in the house. Fear grabbed a strong hold of him as he imagined her getting eaten alive by flames. How a fire had started in the house, he had no clue nor did he care. He crawled over the bed and nearly tripped face-first into the bedroom door, swinging it open and dashing out into the short hallway right before getting to the kitchen.

Smoke enveloped him almost immediately; the kitchen appeared to be the source of it. Coughing, he held his arm in front of his mouth and tried to fan it away from him so he could see.

"Rosie?" he called out between coughs as he neared the end of the hallway in view of the kitchen.

"Crap, you weren't supposed to wake up," he heard her say in disappointment.

She was at the sink running the faucet over a burning pan of...something. She had this cute little apron on and her hair was pulled back into a messy twist-knot. Turbo had to wipe his eyes due to tearing up from the smoke, then went downstairs to open a few windows so it would begin to dissipate. Hopefully the rest of East Niceland didn't come banging on the door asking what the heck was going on. The last thing he wanted was a houseful of visitors tearing his house apart in a frenzy.

"You trying to burn the damn house down?" he asked in slight aggravation once he came back up.

Rosie bit her lip sheepishly and pushed a fallen lock of her hair behind her ear. "I was trying to cook you breakfast."

He looked at her like she'd just said she'd grown two heads over night, then looked at the pan in the sink then at the stove then back at her. Breakfast. She'd been trying to cook breakfast. No fire, just burnt eggs. Or whatever the hell it used to be. He felt like an idiot for overreacting but at the same time he was relieved that that's all it was.

"I thought it might make you feel better, having breakfast in bed," Rosie explained quietly, fiddling with her hands and looking down at her little bare feet. "Since you didn't sleep very well last night."

Turbo couldn't help but smile at that; even though he knew it was her nature to cheer people up, he hadn't quite readjusted to it yet due to being away from her for so long. He wrapped his arms all the way around her for a big bear hug and kissed her on the cheek.

"That is so sweet of you," he said lovingly as he leaned back some to look at her. "Thank you."

"There's not really anything to thank me for since I burnt it all," she replied glumly, keeping her eyes cast down to avoid his gaze.

"Surely _something's _salvageable," he said in attempt to be reassuring.

Rosie cast her eyes to the stove with an expression that read of pained embarrassment then shifted them back at him. "I don't think you'd eat it."

"If you're going to go through the trouble of setting the kitchen on fire, the least I can do is try it."

Turbo flashed her an optimistic grin for added measure.

"I don't want you getting food poisoning," she fretted as he released her and went forth to inspect the remains of her failed cooking attempt.

"Baby, I survived a volcanic explosion," he reminded her, saying it as though it had been but a simple scratch he had endured. "I don't think anything you feed me is going to be worse than _that."_

He peered over the stove and...cocked his head over trying to figure out exactly what was what. Turned out, she wasn't exaggerating. Something that resembled what used to be bacon was crumbled into black shriveled lumps in one pan. Another pan held what appeared to be the remains of...he couldn't even make a guess. Sausage maybe. He made a face to himself so she wouldn't see it, trying to think of something to say without hurting her feelings.

"Well...it's certainly...well done," he said slowly, trying to sound as enthused as possible. He squinted into another pan. "And the...pancake doesn't look that bad."

Rosie ducked her chin down and covered her eyes with one hand, completely mortified. "That's the egg."

He blinked once at the...egg-cake? Pan-egg?

"Oh."

"The pancake is what's in the sink," she explained further, wanting to die on the spot.

Turbo hesitantly picked it up by the edge, almost afraid to touch it. It felt like rubber and it was so stiff that it didn't even flop in the least when he tried to shake it. He put it down in the pan gently, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Well...I guess if the roof leaks, we can use it for a shingle," he tried to joke, a few chuckles sliding out despite his best effort not to.

"I knew you wouldn't eat it."

He turned around and saw the frown Rosie was wearing, who was more than disappointed that her attempt at a surprise had not gone well, and he instantly felt like the world's biggest jerk. She'd tried to cheer him up and he'd made fun of it. He went to wrap his arms back around her so he could look her in the face.

"It was a good first try," he said to her, which was sort of a lie. He had eaten better when he was still hiding out in _Anteater_ living off bugs and worms..._raw_ ones.

She didn't seem to buy it.

"You just have to practice," he continued, trying to sound supportive. "I mean, neither of us were programmed with chef skills, you know."

A hint of a smile finally came to her at that one. "Guess I'm not going to be much of a Susie Homemaker anytime soon."

"It's the thought that counts, and yours was very sweet."

He gave her a quick kiss and patted her on the butt to make her smile bigger.

"Tell you what, I'll clean up in here while you go freshen yourself up," Turbo offered, giving her his best charming smile. "We'll go hit up _BurgerTime_, how's that? Ol' Pete hasn't tossed me out yet."

It was meant to be a joke but Rosie saw through it, knowing it hurt his feelings more than he let on about getting booted out of every other place they visited. A hint of mischief played in her eyes as she tugged the knot loose on her apron, slipping it off and then looping around his neck to pull him in for a sweet kiss. She lingered just long enough to make him think she was going to give him another one but she gently pushed him back at the last second.

"Don't take too long," she sang suggestively as she rubbed herself past him, running a single finger across his back as she did so. "I'd hate to use up all the hot water by myself."

That was the fastest that kitchen ever got cleaned.

* * *

_BurgerTime _after the arcade closed was usually swarming with customers and this time was no exception. If it weren't for _Tapper's_, the restaurant would have a line out the door. Luckily, a few other games also had their own little joints within them and some people actually knew how to cook on their own, so it never got _too_ busy.

Since it was a "seat yourself" establishment, there was no need to wait on someone to seat them. A few soldiers from _Hero's Duty_ were sitting on the other end and they waved, having been surprisingly forgiving of Turbo's role in the "Hologram Incident" and naturally grateful to have their memories back and having a new General that wasn't power-hungry. Rosie waved back happily with full force; Turbo sort of ducked his head down and did a quick courtesy wave, like the kind one gives when passing someone they know on the highway.

The racer knew he didn't have to worry about being thrown out of here, he had been assured of that more than once by Peter Pepper himself. _A guy's gotta eat after all_, had been the jolly chef's reasoning. Besides, he remembered the two of them coming in all the time on dates back in the '80s and it did an old heart good to see they were still together. Peter took their order personally to avoid any conflict with his staff, which of course consisted of his game's villains (whom he was friends with after-hours).

"Stick around when you're done, I'll let you have shakes on the house," he offered with a wink. "Strawberry for the lady and chocolate for the chap, right?"

"Glad you still remember," Rosie smiled at him.

"How could I forget?" he shrugged. "You two were some of my favorite customers."

He patted Turbo on top of his helmet, which he hated but he didn't say anything. "If you have any trouble, come talk to me, all right?"

The racer gave him a small embarrassed grin and a thumbs up for an answer.

After he left, Turbo glanced around the restaurant and winced a few times whenever he saw someone shoot him a dirty look. Blanka and M. Bison from _Street Fighter __II_ both gave him a hard look, the latter cracking his knuckles where the racer could see them. He gulped and slid in his seat a little, drumming his fingers against the table. His nose felt a phantom pain as he remembered the punch he had received a few days ago from the caped fighter.

Rosie noticed and she shot her own glare at the two larger men, which effectively made them stop staring and focus on their own business. She pulled Turbo under his arm to make him sit up straight and not look like such a bully victim, even if technically that's what he was, and she gave him a reassuring grin to let him know it was all right. He gave her a faint smile back just so she wouldn't worry about him.

"Hey there, you two!" Felix greeted them happily, nearing giving them a fright since they hadn't seen him pop up. "If I'd known you were coming along, we could've walked over together!"

"It wasn't a planned trip," Rosie told him, waving for him to sit down.

Turbo felt better having another supporter with him and perked up a bit.

"She tried to burn the house down cooking breakfast," he told Felix in jest, throwing an arm around Rosie to tug her closer. "Only been married a week and she's already after the insurance money."

"Oh, you tried to cook?" Felix asked her with interest. "Not to brag, but I know a thing or two about that if you ever need some advice."

Rosie smiled at him in appreciation. "Thanks, that'd be great!"

Turbo was surprised and ashamed of himself at the twinge of jealousy he suddenly felt, chiding himself mentally that Felix was also married and was just offering out of kindness. Peter came back at that time with the couple's order and said his hello to Felix. He was about to ask him what he wanted but Felix held up a hand to stop him.

"I'm going to wait for Tammy to come first," the handyman explained politely. "She's still doing her daily perimeter check."

Turbo grinned and whispered in Rosie's ear, "Yeah, I _bet_ he waits for her to come first."

She smirked and dug her elbow in his ribs to hush him up. "You're terrible."

"So I hear."

He regretted letting that slip out the second he saw the worry wash over her face. Quickly, he flashed a grin at her to show he didn't really mean it...even though he did.

"Sorry, just kidding."

Rosie looked at him skeptically before turning her attention back to her meal. Felix had turned around to chat with Mario and Luigi who were sitting in the booth behind theirs so he wasn't paying attention to either of them. Turbo was admittedly picky about how his burger was made so he lifted the top bun to inspect it.

No ketchup.

He lowered his eyes at it as if threatening to punish it for being incorrect, then dropped the bun carelessly back down. A quick glance at the table they were at showed him that there was no ketchup bottle sitting on it, only a napkin holder, salt and pepper. He raised up in his seat, sweeping his eyes over the other tables to see if any ketchup bottles were on them.

"What are you doing?" Rosie asked after swallowing, dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

"Ketchup," he answered flatly and that was the only answer she needed.

He finally spotted a table that had one...unfortunately it was occupied by Thomas Rogan and his partner Agent G from _The House of the Dead._ Turbo couldn't help but gulp. Those guys were total badass zombie killers.

Rosie followed his gaze and felt a knot form in her stomach. She didn't want a scene getting started anymore than _he_ did.

"I can go get it for you," she offered kindly, saying it quietly so no one would hear.

"I'm perfectly capable of getting it my_self_," Turbo snapped. "I'm not a damn invalid."

Her nerves jumped at the snippy tone he used and she stared at him quietly with big eyes. Turbo's eyes shifted down to her and he instantly felt remorseful.

"Sorry," he whispered, leaning down a bit to kiss the top of her head. "I'll be right back."

He slid out of the booth and headed over to the zombie hunters, a feeling of dread and anticipation coming over him. Felix turned back around in his seat and Rosie pointed to where Turbo had gone off to, a look of growing concern evident on her face. Felix twisted his head around to see for himself, silently hoping that he wouldn't need to use his hammer soon.

Turbo heard a few murmurs from other patrons as he made his way to his destination. He kept trying to tell himself that he was being ridiculous and that it was perfectly okay to ask someone for a freaking ketchup bottle. What the hell was wrong with him? Just last week he'd had an epic showdown with an insane general bent on mass homicide, what could be so hard about doing this simple task?

Turbo, the greatest racer ever, escape artist extraordinaire, and mastermind of code hacking afraid to ask someone for the most mundane of objects. Ludicrous!

That seemed to be enough of a pep-talk to persuade him to get a grip on himself. Rogan and G didn't seem to notice him approach them, unless they were just ignoring him. Turbo cleared his throat to interrupt their conversation. They both turned their heads slowly towards him in unison, which was actually a lot creepier than it sounded like.

"Um, is it okay if I borrow the ketchup?" the racer asked nicely with his friendliest grin, perspiration starting to bead on his forehead from anxiety.

The two men exchanged glances, smirked at each other knowingly, then turned their eyes back to Turbo.

Before he could even process what was going on, G had swiftly swung his leg out in order to knock Turbo's feet out from under him which resulted him roughly landing on his back. Pain shot through his spine and he gritted his teeth to keep from making any type of noise to indicate that it had actually hurt.

"Sure, you can have some," Rogan replied with a mocking tone, proceeding to forcefully squirt the condiment all over him.

The patrons reacted at first with shocked gasps then it quickly escalated into riotous laughter. God, this was more humiliating than getting thrown out into the Station. Turbo made himself try to at least sit up and he stared at horror at his hands.

_Red. Blood_.

Holy Namco, Taito, and Konami.

_The twins...they'd been drenched in blood._

_"Youuu KILLED usssss!"_

_He'd beaten them to death using only his bare hands and a shift-change stick._

_"Turbo, stop, PLEASE!"_

The room swirled. Colors and sounds mixed together in his head as the random visions flashed in front of his mind. Images of the twins going back and forth from pleading for their lives to threatening to kill him in his dream made him dizzy. He saw the _RoadBlasters_ driver laughing in his face, he saw Vanellope shrinking back from him when she found out who "King Candy" was, he saw everyone he passed in the arcade staring at him as if he was...

_A murderer_. To others, that's all he was and all he'd ever be.

_"I'm begging you, PLEASE!"_

_"Are you CRAZY?!"  
_

_"Aaaand now, weeee willll kill YOU!"_

He vomited.


	4. Flipped Switch

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Four**

Turbo's puking only made the laughter increase and the room spun more as a result. His head was killing him and his stomach was insistent on retching up everything he had in his stomach, which wasn't that much to begin with.

He honestly never saw Rosie or Felix show up, which had been at some point after the first round of laughter. Turbo thought maybe he'd heard her screaming at a laughing Rogan (_"ASSHOLE! What the HELL'S your PROBLEM!") _while attempting clean him up with a wad of napkins Felix had grabbed for her to use until he could find some towels and a mop. His hammer could do a lot but it couldn't clean up vomit, no sir.

Peter Pepper was pretty pissed off and told the two zombie hunters to leave the premises immediately for starting a scene in his restaurant, to which they had simply shrugged and sauntered out. The large chef began apologizing profusely afterwards but not a word of it was heard over all the commotion.

It was all such a blur to the racer who was still in a daze from his crazy flashback daydream-nightmare whatever the hell that was. He didn't seem to know what was going on around him and Rosie had to tug him to his feet and practically hold him up to help him walk to the washroom. She plopped him in the seat that was there, her arms aching from having to hold him up so long.

"Champ, snap out of it!" Rosie was begging him after turning on the faucet in the washroom's sink. She wet a clean rag, wrung it out so it wouldn't be sopping wet, and started wiping his mouth off better.

"Sweetie,_ please_, you're okay now. I'm sorry, I should've just gotten it myself whether you liked it or not."

_I should've slapped the shit out of those two, is what I SHOULD have done._

Turbo finally showed some form of consciousness and blinked a few times. Rosie ran water over the rag again and started wiping his hands off where there was still some red. He stared blankly ahead while she got down on her knees to clean off his suit better, which thankfully was made of a slick material and not something that would have absorbed the stains. She figured she was still going to have to soak it when they got home just to be on the safe side.

"I killed them," he said hollowly. "I killed them all."

Rosie stopped what she was doing instantly, a chill passing over her when she heard the dead voice he was using. He almost sounded like a completely different person. In fact, she wasn't even sure he knew she was there with him.

His face crumpled up into the saddest face she'd ever seen and tears started forming visibly in his eyes. His breath was hitching and his chest was heaving as if he was trying to hold back a cry; it was a losing battle.

"There was...there was blood ev-everywhere," Turbo whimpered out, his hands shaking as he talked. "They...they b-b-b-begged me to ssssss-"

The word was "stop" but he couldn't finish the word. He fell apart into a mess of sobs, cradling his head in his hands as he continued to sit in the chair. Rosie didn't know what to say, if she should even say anything at all. She'd never once seen him cry, not ever. Not even when he was worried about _TurboTime_ getting unplugged, he had not once shed a tear.

Turbo felt her try to touch his arm in comfort but he jerked back from her.

"I-I-I-I rrrran-ran over R-R-Rocky," he continued as he sat there and sobbed, referring to the main driver of _RoadBlasters_. "And then, and then I beat T-T-Teddy and-and sssssnapped Ted's n-n-neck."

Rosie sat there looking both stunned and horrified. Of course she had known about the murders, but the reality of it came suddenly crashing into her for the first time. To be honest, it was rather terrifying to hear him share the details, minor as they were, and she had to will herself to not imagine him doing those things. Somehow, that made it all seem worse, even though it really shouldn't have mattered _how_ he did it.

He didn't even know why he'd told her; he hadn't wanted her to know. It just came out before he even knew what he was doing. Surely she'd be afraid of him now that she knew what kind of monster he was. A cold-blooded murderer who sometimes didn't even regret doing what he did. He felt so mixed up in his head that it started pounding furiously. He couldn't make himself quit crying either and he didn't even know what it was exactly he was crying about.

"Ple-please don't ha-ha-hate me," Turbo choked out, too ashamed of himself to dare check her reaction.

Rosie shed her silent tears, trying to keep herself together for Turbo's sake. She hated seeing him like this and unfortunately she was going to be seeing this a lot more in times to come. She wished she could shield him from any hurt and pain that flew his way but she could only do so much to ease the sorrow.

He felt her little hands gently touch his arms to rub them soothingly and this time he let her keep them there. Rosie gritted her teeth and shut her eyes tight, trying not to cry too much in fear that it would unravel Turbo even more. A tiny tap at the door was effective in snapping her train of thought into coherency. She swung her head around and saw Felix barely peek in with a concerned yet questioning look on his face.

She waved her arm out and mouthed "Go!" at him a few times, to which he cringed and mouthed back "Sorry!", obviously embarrassed at intruding and slowly shut the door again. Rosie sighed and rubbed her eyes against her shoulder before turning her attention back to her husband.

"I-I don't hate you," she promised, hoping he wouldn't hear the sadness in her voice. "I _can't_ hate you."

"Why?"

The question startled her. _Why?_

"What do you mean?" she asked, not understanding. "Why can't I hate you? Honey, I _love_ you, that should be reason enough."

"How...how can you?"

Turbo peeked his eyes out, which were tired and bloodshot from crying and exhaustion. He looked at her briefly before shifting them down, feeling unworthy to even be her in presence. His hands relaxed down between his knees and he rubbed them together, as if trying to remove a stubborn stain from them.

Like blood.

He couldn't see it anymore but even after all these years he could still feel it, the warm sticky sickening feel of blood that he had shed.

"How can you love me?" he asked again, his voice creaking as he said it. "I'm...I'm..."

"I don't care how other people think of you," Rosie interrupted firmly, grabbing his hands to squeeze. "You're not whatever it is they say you are. You're a nice guy-"

"_Nice guys don't kill people_!"

He had growled the words out so viciously that Rosie snapped her hands back towards her chest, her heart slamming from the fright he'd given her. It was like someone flipped a switch; one second he'd been in a state of despair and the next in outrage.

"If I'm such a God-damned _nice_ guy, then why the _hell_ is everyone treating me like a piece of shit _virus_?!"

His eyes were glowing fierce as they stared at a random spot at the wall, his fists clenched so hard that if he'd had nails that they would've drawn blood. Rosie inched back, afraid that if she said anything that he'd slap her, then she felt ashamed of herself for even thinking such a thing.

"Everyone thinks I'm a damn _monster_!" he continued to rant, the words pouring out in rushed streams. "_Everyone_! They all think I'm some blood-thirsty _maniac_ that's going to butcher them in their sleep! That many people can't be wrong, maybe I'm just shitting myself into thinking I could possibly live like a normal person, maybe there really _is_ something the hell wrong with me!"

"That's not true!" Rosie firmly interrupted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "There's nothing wrong with you! You just...just had a slip-up, is all! Everyone has those, no one's perfect!"

"A _slip-up!"_ He almost laughed at the very notion. "A _slip-up _is when you forget to take out the trash, not when you commit cold-blooded _murder!_"

The last word seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in and he blinked a few times before focusing in on the terrified look on Rosie's face. He felt his heart drop, completely appalled at himself.

_I scared her. _

"I'm...I'm sorry," he whimpered out as fresh tears began to form in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I...I didn't mean to sc-scare you."

Rosie's face softened when he started to cry again. She was still a little on edge from the random mood swing he'd had, but this wasn't the first time he'd done that so it didn't phase her very long. He looked like a sad puppy that'd been kicked too many times and it broke her heart.

"Honey, it's okay," she cooed gently as she started wiping some tears off his face. "I know it's been rough since coming back into the public eye, but we already knew it was going to be that way, right?"

He sat silent for a minute then slowly shook his head "yes". Rosie dropped her hands back down to hold his again and he squeezed them.

"It's not going to be like this forever," she told him, even though she wasn't even sure she was right in saying that. "They'll get over it after a while. Once they see you're not bad, they'll come around and stop bothering you. It's just a rough patch we're going through."

Turbo didn't seem very sure of that. In fact, he didn't believe a word of it. He was never going to be popular, loved, well-regarded, _nothing_. He thought of how things used to be when _TurboTime_ was still plugged in. Everyone used to come to his races and cheer for him, then come to his parties afterwards. They _had_ to have liked him then, right? But he'd screwed up big time and now no one wanted anything to do with him. He would never have anything like he used to have.

"I want to go home," he said quietly just above a whisper.

Rosie laced her fingers through his as she held his hands and sighed, the sinking sense of failure worming into her. It was her job to make people happy and so far she wasn't doing it very well it seemed. It reminded of her of how she felt during the week of _RoadBlasters_' premiere; she had failed to keep him happy then and as a result he ended up going off the deep end.

"Okay, baby, we can go."

He shook his head sadly back and forth, his head ducked down and his eyes closed. She didn't understand. That's not what had meant. He had meant his _real _home, but he didn't feel like discussing it right now though so he didn't comment. He wanted to lay down and maybe have a couple beers...or three.

* * *

"Champ, you have to eat _something_."

"I'm not hungry," was the muffled response.

Turbo had curled himself up on the couch after taking a warm shower, wrapped up comfortably in his red house robe and a big fluffy pillow over his head. Truthfully, he would've been fine if he never had to leave the house again. If he was just going to be humiliated everywhere he went, what was the point? Turbo, who used to be the most popular game character at Litwak's, reduced to a laughing stock. He'd felt low before but this was a new level.

Rosie sighed. "I know you're not _now_, but you _will_ be. I can go get it for you and bring it here for later, okay? Unless you just want me to cook again."

There was silence for a while, then she heard, "Fine, you can go get it. No offense."

She smiled softly at that and reached her hand down to get behind the pillow to ruffle his hair. "I'll be right back. Love ya."

"Ditto."

She left after that and when he heard the door shut, Turbo rolled over onto his back and hugged the pillow to his chest. The house was really quiet without anyone else there and it only added to the overwhelming sense of loneliness he felt. He felt so...meaningless. Empty. He wanted his car back, his racetrack, his _home_. He had always felt wanted there, had a sense of purpose there. He missed his Trophy Rooms, seeing all those golden cups lined up neatly in their display cases. He missed the roar of the engine coming to life, the wind in his face, the adrenaline pumping in him as he sped along the track towards victory, the overall feeling of being worth something. He'd give anything to have all that again now.

Turbo got up slowly from the couch and made his way to the refrigerator. He opened it and eyed the remaining beer bottles within. A little voice in his head told him he probably shouldn't drink when he's feeling depressed, but he shoved it away and grabbed a few to take back to the couch with him. He'd never had a problem with drinking before, sure he got drunk plenty of times, but he wasn't an alcoholic. He'd be careful.

Just three for now.

Or maybe four.

Who cared how many, long as they did the job and made him feel better.

* * *

Rosie sat on the bench waiting for the little train to come back so she could hitch a ride to the Station, her chin resting on her hands as she did so. She was at a loss as to what to do. Turbo was one of those people that needed an ego boost all the time or else he'd think he wasn't worth anything. Sure, he came across as arrogant a lot of the time but that was just his way of making himself feel good. He was a lot more sensitive than he liked to let on to people. Rosie was worried that he might do something crazy again, remembering what happened the _last_ time he had acted like this.

"Why the long face?"

She jumped a little when she heard Ralph's voice, not having seen him walk up which was rather unusual if you thought about it.

"Hi, Ralph," she said sadly as he walked up onto the loading dock. "I'm just worried about Turbo is all."

The big man frowned at that. He wasn't the racer's biggest fan but he did have to admit that he wasn't all that bad after their time together dealing with Hologram. Annoying, but not that bad. He had proven that by fixing the mess he'd helped made in _Hero's Duty_.

"Did something happen?" he asked.

She summarized the incident at _BurgerTime_ and Ralph surprisingly found himself a little ticked off about it too. He knew what it was like to get shunned and treated like a villain, no one giving him the benefit of the doubt that he was more than what he was programmed to do, and it aggravated him to see it happen to someone else, even if it _was_ Turbo.

"You should have seen him," Rosie kept on. "He'd switch back and forth between being depressed about it to being pissed off. It was crazy. I didn't know what to say to him. Nothing I've done so far seems to make him feel any better. I don't know how much more of this he can take. I'm scared he's not going to want to leave the house again if anything else goes wrong."

She started tearing up. "I hate seeing him like this, he's usually so full of energy and up for a good time. He's always had this _joie de vivre_ about him, wanting to go off on adventures or throw a party and hang out with everyone." She wiped her eyes, her voice beginning to break. "Now he's just laying on the couch feeling sorry for himself."

Ralph hated seeing anyone cry, especially girls, and admittedly he didn't really know what to say or do when they did such. He rubbed his neck nervously, glancing around hoping maybe one of the Nicelander women would conveniently show up and relieve him of this situation he was in. Naturally, they were alone. He blew his breath out and fumbled with some words in his head before he spoke.

"Um...I mean, I know I didn't talk to you guys much back in the day, but uh..." He paused trying to think of where to go from there. "But...didn't he have any...I dunno, _friends_? Like buddies to hang out with? I mean, this is the most I've talked to you guys ever, so I really don't know."

Rosie sniffed and wiped her face again. "No, not really. There were people he'd talk to when he saw them, but no one he'd really hang out with. Or alternately, no one that would hang out with _him_. _I_ was the closest thing to a friend he had."

"Well, what about Felix? They seem to get along."

"He said he felt like he was being a burden to him. Besides, Felix is married too, he likes to spend time with _his_ wife."

Ralph thought quietly for a brief spell. A lightbulb switched in his head but he wasn't sure if it would work or not.

"You know...I used to be kind of an outcast too, even here in my own game," he started slowly, hoping he wasn't sounding too pathetic. "Everyone just saw me as the 'bad guy', the 'guy who wrecks the building'. They didn't see me as who I really was inside."

Rosie raised her head up to meet his gaze in interest. "What did _you_ do?"

"Well...for a long time, nothing. I didn't think it was possible for people to change their opinion of me."

He was going to start talking about his adventure in Sugar Rush, but he bit his tongue just in time, not wanting to bring up anything involving "King Candy" and his Cy-Bug form. Ralph didn't even know how much of that Rosie knew about and he didn't think it his place to tell her any of it. Not to mention, it was probably a touchy subject.

"To make a long story short," he said instead, "I started going to these meetings for a group called Bad-Anon. I don't know if you've ever heard of it, but it's basically where the 'villains' of the game get together and have these kinda...I guess therapy sessions? Where you talk your problems out?"

Rosie nodded emphatically and leaned forward a bit as if he tell him to keep going.

"Anyway, it's supposed to help us deal with being okay with who we are and..." He struggled with how to word it then shrugged in defeat. "And all that sort of sappy stuff. I'm not the best orator, but it really does help to go. I don't know if he'd even be interested in going or not, but I could maybe take Turbo along to one if it'll help. We have our next meeting tomorrow night."

She looked almost excited for a second but then her smile slowly fell. "They won't...bully him, will they?"

Ralph wasn't honestly sure. "Well, I've never seen them pick on anyone else in the group, if that's anything to go on. I mean, the point is to be supportive, not rag one another. We're a pretty cool group if I say so myself. One of the Pac-Man ghosts, Clyde, runs it and I know he wouldn't put up with any bullying."

He added, "And I'll keep a close eye on him just in case, okay?"

Her smile picked back up. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Thanks, Ralph."

She gave his arm a hug, since really that's the only thing she could somewhat get her own arms around. Ralph looked almost embarrassed at the gesture, again making sure no one was watching.

"Um, you're welcome."

"I just hope he goes along with it_."_


	5. Words, Hurtful and Helpful

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Five**

It was bedtime once again in East Niceland...well, bedtime for those who didn't have jobs. The arcade was currently open so that's when "homeless" characters took the opportunity to sleep...kinda like what Turbo was trying to do. He was laying on his back in bed when he felt something drip on his head. He stirred when he felt it, blindly swept his hand across his face in his sleep and settled back down.

_Drip_. _Drip_.

Whatever it was, it was warm and it succeeded in slowly bringing the racer out of his slumber. The _hell_, he just wanted to sleep. Turbo ran his hand across his forehead again and drowsily creaked his eyes open. Then his eyes popped wide open as he stared directly above him, his body numb with fear.

A ghostly blue aura surrounded Teddy as he floated horizontally above where the racer was laying in bed. He had that same sharp-toothed grin as last time only now drops of blood was oozing out of his wrangled mouth and _drip drip dripping_ on Turbo's face. It was nauseating and Turbo felt his stomach heave but he was too petrified to move.

"_What's wrong, Tur-bozo?" _Teddy asked snidely, the blood in his mouth giving his voice a garbled, warped effect. _"You're not queasy, are you?"_

When he spoke, the blood came out in a steady stream, its hot thickness smothering Turbo's face. He wanted to vomit yet he could not, probably because this was another dream. He _hoped_ it was another dream. He shut his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Teddy anymore and tried to force himself awake.

"_You can't get rid of me that easily_," Teddy chortled maliciously as he continued to hover over the bed. "_What's wrong with you? You used to be tougher than this."_

"Go away!" Turbo told him, keeping his eyes shut. "Leave me alone!"

"_I'm not going anywhere. Might as well get used to it."_

Turbo rolled over towards Rosie so that when he opened his eyes he wouldn't have to look at Teddy. _"Rosie_! Rosie, he's _back_!" he was shouting, shaking her a bit roughly. "_Teddy's_ back!"

"That's nice, dear," she mumbled in her sleep, snuggling more against her pillow. "Invite him to breakfast."

He gave her a quizzical expression before he felt a pair of cold hands grab him and shove him forcefully onto his back. Teddy had dropped from his aerial position and was sitting on Turbo's stomach, his cold dead fingers wrapped around his throat, a maniacal grin present on him the whole time. Turbo's heart banged hard and his whole body became chilled with terror.

"_Stupid, you think after that little stunt you pulled earlier, she's going to want anything to do with you?" _the dead racer sneered. "_She was practically pissing her pants when you had your little tantrum. I'm surprised she's even still here."_

"D-d-don't t-talk ab-b-b-out her," Turbo stuttered out.

"_Ooooh, so b-b-b-brave, aren't w-w-w-we?" _Teddy retorted mockingly, his fingers slowly tightening around his victim's throat. "_You WERE always fond of the little whore. You know she's only sticking around because she feels sorry for you. You think she wants to be married to a pussy?"_

Turbo tried to swallow but found it difficult to do under the circumstances. "I'm n-n-not a...not a..."

"_Yes, you are,"_ the apparition insisted cruelly. "_You're so pathetic. The so-called great Turbo is nothing more than a big baby. It's embarrassing that I let myself get killed by such a pansy."_

More blood splattered onto Turbo's face, the excess running down past his neck and onto the bedsheets. He could feel it soaking into him, like it was wanting to corrupt him somehow. He found it getting harder to breathe the longer he laid there and he felt paralyzed all over.

"_You disappoint me, Turbo. You have the nerve to kill me after I give you the chance to have a new life and this is what you do with it? You're so damn lame. You always were. Nobody ever liked you, you know. You thought your stupid parties and status as Litwak's moneymaker bought you popularity? You thought pretending to be some kooky old fart with bad puns made you likeable when you took over that dumbass candy game? You thought that taking care of your little charade in that soldier game would make everyone welcome you with open arms?"_

_"_S-s-s-stop it_,"_ Turbo whimpered out_, _trying not to listen to the hateful words but he knew they were all true.

_"Stop it?" _Teddy threw his head back and laughed. The blood that pooled in his mouth made it sound like he was gargling and Turbo felt himself want to retch again._ "Funny, I remember saying the same thing to you when you bashed my face in."  
_

The icy fingers squeezed their hardest, preventing air from entering Turbo's lungs completely and he tried to pry his dead co-racer's hands off of him to no avail. He felt himself slipping away, the only thing he could see was the fuzzy image of Teddy laughing that insane warped chortle of his with blood steadily pouring out of him.

"Ro...sie...hellllllp," he managed to squeak out.

_"She doesn't care. No one cares._ _She'll be happy that you're gone. Then she won't have to worry about your stupid ass all the time and actually be able to have a LIFE. She thinks you're a pathetic wuss just like everyone else, she's just too nice to say it to your face."_

Turbo's vision was turning black and his defensive grip on Teddy loosened as he felt himself fading.

Then suddenly something very cold was dumped on him and he snapped back to the land of the living. He tried to scream from shock but nothing would come out but exaggerated gulps of air as he regained his ability to breathe again. The lamp was on to vaguely lighten the room and Teddy was no longer sitting on his stomach. _Rosie_ was, however, and her face read of both fear and concern.

"Champ, you had another bad dream," she told him as she went to dry his face off with a small cloth.

He looked baffled, first staring at her then twisting his head around as if trying to find someone. They were the only two in the room.

"You were talking in your sleep and I kept shaking you to wake up but you wouldn't," she explained hurriedly. "So I had to dump cold water on you."

So that's what woke him up...and her shaking must have coincided with Teddy strangling him somehow. Turbo calmed down relatively faster than he did after the first nightmare and relaxed considerably, thanking the Arcade Gods that he was still alive. He gazed up sleepily at Rosie's sweet little face and Ghost Teddy's words came slinking back to him.

___The so-called great Turbo is nothing more than a big baby_..._You know she's only sticking around because she feels sorry for you...__She thinks you're a pathetic wuss just like everyone else_...

"You need some water or anything?" Rosie asked him, worried when he didn't say anything back to her. "I can give you a back rub if you want."

She was offering out of love but he didn't see it that way. No, she was asking because she felt _sorry_ for him. He remembered the last time she had shown pity towards him and it had greatly pissed him off that he was in a position to be felt sorry for. This time wasn't any different, he thought. Rosie could see his mood change gradually just by watching his face turn from being relaxed to agitated.

"I'm_ fine_," Turbo said through clenched teeth. "You don't have to baby me."

It pained her that he thought that's what she was doing. He could tell her feelings had been hurt judging by the frown she was wearing and the lack of sparkle in her eyes. Damn it, he couldn't do anything right. It didn't matter what he did, she was either going to feel sorry for him or get her feelings hurt. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than _him_. He wasn't the same guy she fell in love with all those years ago; he'd actually _been _somebody then. It wasn't _her_ fault that he was nothing now, so he felt a twinge of guilt for snapping at her. Turbo sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes with one hand.

"Look, I'm sorry, I just want to go back to sleep, okay?" he told her, trying to sound nicer. "And yes, a glass of water would be nice, thank you."

He somehow succeeded at mustering up a fake enough smile to get her to do as he said without giving him wavering looks of skepticism. Teddy's remarks kept repeating themselves in his head, and it saddened him to think that it was possible that Rosie might just leave him because he was turning into the world's biggest loser. He loved her and didn't want her to go, but he didn't want her feeling damn sorry for him all the time either. What little ego he had left was getting bruised more and more.

_All right then, quit acting like a puss and get over it. Just learn to ignore people. _

He scoffed at his own thought. _Yeah right. It's hard to ignore people punching you in the face or kicking you to the floor._

Homesickness swallowed him up, wishing he could go back to a time where things were happier. He didn't have to worry about any of this back then. Rosie came back with his glass of ice water and he sat up to swallow a few gulps before putting it on the little nightstand. She sat cross-legged to the side of him more towards the foot of the bed. She wanted to ask if he felt better but thought he'd just get mad if she did so she waited for him to say something first.

He wasn't going to say anything but then a thought crossed his mind. Of _course_! Rosie didn't have her Home Game anymore either. She'd understand more than anyone how it felt to not be able to do your life's purpose. He'd been so wrapped up in himself he never even considered asking her about it.

"Can I ask you something?"

She perked up slightly at the friendlier tone he used. "Sure, anything."

"Do you miss your old home?" Turbo asked her, now looking in her eyes with a bit of hope in them. "You know, your home game? You miss being there, don't you?"

Disappointment crept into him when she said, "No, not really."

He stared at her, not comprehending her answer.

"What do you mean, '_not really_'? You don't miss cheering?" he inquired farther, talking more in his normal voice now. "You don't miss your job? The very reason you even exist? You don't want that back?"

Rosie felt guilty for being truthful. She knew that _he_ missed racing, that was more than obvious, but she didn't want to lie to him about her own self.

"I don't have to be a ball game to cheer," she explained. She threw him a little grin when she added, "I liked cheering for _you_ more. Besides, I think I spent more time at your place than I did at mine, so I never really thought of _Slam Dunk!_ as 'Home'."

That didn't really answer his question. He was looking at her like she was speaking Q*bert-ese.

"Home's not a _place_, dear," she continued, her words slowing a little when she saw he wasn't getting it. "It's...where you feel like you belong. And I belonged with you, so...I guess _you _were my Home."

That made less sense to him than the rest of what she'd said. The hell was she talking about? A person can't be a home. Home was some_where_ you went, not some_one. _

Rosie struggled mentally to figure out how to get him to see it her way, but she was at a loss at how to word it. When he'd "gone away" (she refused to use the phrase "going Turbo" for obvious reasons), she'd felt the same symptoms that one feels when they're homesick, only she supposed it was more _love_sick, but it was a little deeper than that. She wished she was good with words like Turbo was; he would have known how to translate it better if the roles had been reversed.

"I guess I mean...I never really felt like I belonged there. I was never close to anyone. I sort of latched onto you after we met, so I didn't really have much chance to get attached to my own place. I honestly didn't care when we got unplugged, because it didn't matter to me. I was too busy missing _you_ anyway."

That's not the answer he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that someone else missed their game as much as he did his, then he realized that was selfish of him to _want_ her to be in his situation. What kind of person was he, to wish that someone would join him in his mindset of uselessness?

Rosie toyed with her hands, getting more embarrassed the longer he didn't respond to her. "Sorry, that probably sounded dumb," she said under her breath, almost as though she were chiding _herself_ instead of apologizing to him.

Turbo felt his insides cringe at her self-doubting tone, not sure how to respond since he didn't even understand what it was she was telling him. He let out a silent sigh and leaned over a bit to rub her knee.

"It's all right," he told her, not knowing what else to say.

But it wasn't all right. Nothing was.

* * *

"You want me to go_ where?_"_  
_

Ralph stood awkwardly just outside of Turbo's front door, out of fear that he would break the little stairway they had, while the racer himself blocked the doorway entrance with his arms crossed and his eyes at half-mast. He wasn't even dressed yet, having decided that he wasn't stepping foot out of the house that day, and he looked pretty pissed off at the very suggestion that he go back out in public. Rosie peeked her head over Turbo's shoulder to give Ralph a "trust me" wink and said,

"I think you should go, honey."

He turned and looked at her in shock. "But that's a group for _villains_! _I'm _not a villain!" he protested, pressing both hands against his chest for emphasis.

Rosie gave him a nervous smile as she carefully reminded him, "Well...you said so yourself that everyone thinks of you that way."

He opened his mouth to argue with her, but then closed it when he realized she was right. He _had_ said that everyone thought of him as a monster.

"I think it'll be good for you," she told him with a big supportive smile. "It might make you feel better about yourself and that you're not so bad, and then everyone else will see it too. Right, Ralph?"

The wrecker was caught off-guard at being dragged back into the conversation and he cleared his throat. "Oh, uh, yeah!" he exclaimed, wearing a flustered grin. "Yeah, I mean, I know how it feels to be...you know...not wanted and have everyone scared of you, and so does everyone else in the group. I know you're not officially a 'bad guy' but given the...circumstances..." He felt awkward bringing up Turbo's dirty laundry in front of him, "I think you qualify for at least an honorary spot."

Turbo threw him a withering look of doubt over his shoulder. Rosie reached a hand out to grab his chin to make him look back at her.

"Can you just give a try?" she asked him sweetly. "Ralph said it's a good confidence booster and I think you could use that."

Confidence. Yeah, he did need some of that. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give it a try. Couldn't be worse than anything else he'd been through.

"I promise you won't get thrown out, I'll make sure of it," Ralph added, thinking that might help ease any worries the racer had about trying to visit another game.

The racer glanced back and forth between the other two, both of them wearing similar expressions of support. It took him a minute, but he finally decided that if he had at least two people batting on his team, then maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. Besides, Rosie wouldn't agree to it if there was a chance of trouble brewing, right?

Rosie felt her heart warm when she saw the slightest hint of a twinkle in Turbo's eyes and an inkling of a smile on his face, having almost forgotten when the last time she saw him appear even the least bit happy.

"Okay, I'll give it a shot."

He wasn't expecting a hug but Rosie couldn't contain herself and squeezed him tight to her, glad he was allowing assistance with his issues. The small smile he was wearing increased and for a moment he felt like his old self.

_That's it, ol' boy, just think positive. Make the best of it. You want her to quit feeling sorry for ya, right? Well, here you go! You can do this. _

* * *

_Will the Bad-Anon meeting go smoothly? Or will it just make things worse? Turbo said he needs lots of support guys, don't let him feel alone ;)  
_

_And yes, I swear, Felix, Calhoun, and Vanellope (and the other Sugar Rush-ians) are involved in this story, it's just taking longer than I thought to get everyone in here.  
_


	6. Bad-Anon

_Just in case anyway else asks, I know there's this thing with the Pac-Man Ghost Room being inaccessible to "good guys", but I reason that since Zangief isn't an official "bad guy" and is able to go in there, then it's okay for Turbo to go in._

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Six**

The last thing Felix expected when he opened his front door was have an extra chipper redhead asking him to help bake cookies. Rosie was talking too fast for him to fully keep up with her, his head moving in tiny circles as he tried to listen and let it all sink in. Calhoun was sitting on the couch in the living room, smirking to herself as she finished off the beer she had.

"Cookies?" the handyman simply repeated when Rosie finally calmed down.

She slumped her shoulders in an exaggerated fashion. "Yeah, you said you'd help me cook next time I wanted to."

"And you want to right _now_?" he wanted to clarify, still lightheaded from hearing the rushed speech he had only heard half of.

"That's why I'm here, silly!" she grinned widely, perking up again. "I want to make chocolate chip cookies. They're Turbo's favorite, and I want to surprise him when he comes home."

Calhoun coughed politely to the side, having heard from Felix about how the teen had nearly burnt her kitchen down. "_This _I gotta see."

Felix was still a little flabbergasted as the sudden chore he had to do, not that he minded helping of course, it was just so _random_.

"I...I don't have anything to bake..."

His voice trailed off when Rosie shoved a huge bag of grocery items in his arms and skipped herself into the penthouse.

"Thanks, Felix, I knew you'd be helpful."

"Cookies...with..." he finished quietly as he struggled with the heavy bag, turning around to try kicking the door shut before making his way to his kitchen without (hopefully) bumping into anything.

The blonde sergeant had to stifle a laugh at the sight of her husband carrying a sack almost as big as he was. When he passed by her, she whispered,

"Don't let the prom queen mix up the sugar and salt." She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "I'd hate to see you taste-test one and then develop Shriveled Lips Syndrome."

Felix shifted his arms carefully under the bag's weight. "I _hope_ she's not _that_ lethal of a cook."

**FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER**

Calhoun was doubled over on the stool she had taken to sit in, laughing so hard she could hardly breathe. Flour covered both the counter and floor, and the only part of Felix that was visible were his eyes when he finally decided to open them. Rosie had her hands behind her back with a large apologetic smile on her face, digging the toe of her shoe into the floor.

"Sorry," she told the flour-dusted handyman, her face flushing as she glanced back and forth between him and his wife, still in hysterics.

Felix sighed to himself and wiped his face with a nearby dishtowel. "No harm done," he replied, trying to maintain his usual friendliness as not to hurt her feelings. "I...probably should have mentioned that the...mixer had a low speed setting before I...," he cleared his throat, "let you touch it."

Rosie peeked back over at the mixer and asked quite innocently, "Oh, it has settings?"

He facepalmed himself while she wasn't looking and ran his hand down the length of his face in exasperation. So much for this being an ordinary baking lesson.

* * *

Clyde was floating in place, his mouth in a straight line and his serious eyes gazing upward as he waited for Ralph to explain himself. The meeting itself didn't start for another good twenty minutes, which meant not everyone had arrived, thank Namco, because they were sure to be in an uproar about Ralph's little...guest. The few that _were_ there were already boiling hot. Clyde had given everyone an exaggerated smile before nearly shoving Ralph out into the main hallway outside the meeting room in order to have a moment of privacy.

The wrecker ran both hands through his hair and breathed out in a loud huff. "Look, I just thought that since the group's about second chances and finding peace in yourself, that it would be good for him."

"You really should have asked permission before bringing _him_ in here," Clyde told him, motioning with his eyes back towards the room as if he could see through the wall and look at you-know-who.

"I know I should have, but-"

"But you thought I'd say no."

The response cut like a knife, causing Ralph to tense up. He felt like a child being scolded by their mother for bringing in a stray puppy without permission, fearing that the animal would tear the house apart even though all he was doing was sitting there and being as obedient as could be. Ralph wished he knew what was going on that room; it was soundproof so that the Ghosts could have their break time without Pac-Man eavesdropping on them, and it came in handy during Bad-Anon meetings.

The orange ghost shut his eyes completely and sighed, taking Ralph's silence as an answer. After a minute or two, he finally opened them back up and tilted his body upwards so he could talk to Ralph more comfortably.

"You're right, Ralph, the group _is_ essentially about coming to terms with issues arising from villainy."

"I sense a 'but' on the end of that."

Clyde nodded once. "_But_...this can't be a regular thing. It was hard enough convincing Pac-Man to allow other villains inside this game when I first started organizing Bad-Anon. I can't imagine how he'd react if he found out I let _him_ in here, even if it _was_ without my knowledge."

"You know, _he_ has a name," Ralph retorted, perhaps ruder than he intended. He felt instantly ashamed, knowing that it was only natural of Clyde to think of the group as a whole when something supposedly threatened. He hadn't even thought about the possibility that Pac-Man could actually get upset enough to ban meetings for good because of this. Okay, maybe not forever, since they could always relocate, but still...

Clyde floated back a few inches, abashed. "I know that, it's just...you have to understand, Ralph. His name's been a taboo subject for so many years. It sounds foreign to be using it in its proper sense again."

It was Ralph's turn to sigh then hold his hands out in a show of peace. "Listen, I know this is really unexpected and sudden, but trust me on this. I wouldn't bring him here if I didn't think some good would come out of it. I mean, you guys really helped _me_ out, so I thought it would be nice to share it with someone who might need it more. He's really been trying to start over and no one seems to be giving him a chance."

He saw the formation of a small smile on Clyde's face when he finished speaking. "You're absolutely right. It's amazing how far you've come since you first joined us. I'm almost ashamed of myself for calling myself the group leader after this."

* * *

A pin drop could have been heard in that room. The second Ralph and Clyde had exited, Turbo began trying to decipher which of these guys was going to be the one to kill him. Thankfully, the room hadn't filled yet but regardless it was a very sinking, uncomfortable feeling to be stared down like a wildebeest at the mercy of a lion's hunting party. He decided to at least try to make the best of it, having to sadly remind himself that he really should have expected some hostility.

He chalked up his best smile despite his internal urge to flee from danger and tugged at his collar.

"So, uh...nice day we're having, huh?"

Apparently no one else thought so. Neff from _Altered Beast _literally snorted in response. Bowser just sat quietly while twirling his stirrer in his coffee cup, keeping a steady glare fixated on the racer. Turbo couldn't tell if Dr. Eggman was looking at him or not through his shades, the man being slumped in his seat with his legs stretched out before him and his arms crossed. Mishaela of _Shining Force_ laid back coolly in her seat, glancing at her nails, her legs crossed sensually over each other. Kano was sitting backwards in his seat, as per the norm, his arms folded across the back of the chair and his chin resting on top of those.

At least M. Bison wasn't in there. _That_ would have been a nightmare.

"Right...I agree, it's _not_ a nice day," Turbo answered himself, his voice getting smaller the more he talked. "At all...in the least."

The forced smile Turbo was wearing grew more nervous and sweat began to pour off him. He began to mentally scream for Ralph to come back in, hoping that maybe he would suddenly gain the ability to hold telepathic conversation with him and thus come save him from this insanely awkward silence. Bowser finally stopped stirring his coffee, took a sip, then put his cup to the side of his chair, leaning forward slightly so he could rest his elbows on his knees and prop his head up with his palms as if to study his prey.

"What made you think it was okay to come here?" the king of Koopas asked in his deep growling voice.

It wasn't a question that he wanted to answer but at least someone broke the silence.

"I...I...got invited," Turbo answered quietly, still trying to keep a smile up.

Neff snorted again. "You're not even a bad guy," he said flatly. Then he smirked after a second and added, "Well, not a _programmed_ one anyway."

Turbo gulped, the smile slowly fading away.

Mishaela didn't shift her gaze away from her nails when she spoke. "You're not like us. We're bad because we're designed to be. We can't help it if it's our job."

"Yeah, _you_ did bad things on your own free will," Eggman spoke up, pointing accusingly at the racer. "No one told you to do it. _We _ don't have a choice to but to play villains in our games, but _you_! _You_ were a star! You chose to do the things you did."

He was well aware of that but it still made him feel shitty hearing it from other people, _especially_ people he didn't even know on a personal level. He glanced nervously at the door, trying to keep an eye on both it and the villains in the room just in case they decided to jump up and kill him. His smile had disappeared completely and now he was just downright terrified. Any one of these people could easily snap his neck like a toothpick. Where the hell was Ralph at? What was taking him so long?

"If you're thinking about bolting to the door, you wouldn't make it before I rip your heart out," Kano warned him gravely, a sinister look in both his real eye and his robotic one.

"Hey, c-come on, fellas," Turbo started, trying to remain on a friendly turf. He was visibly shaking in his chair, his hands clenched down on the sides of it in a death grip. "Let's lighten up a little."

He didn't like the flint of mischievous evil in Bowser's eyes.

"Lighten up you say?" he nearly purred.

Turbo's eyes got wide as saucers when the enormous Koopa opened his mouth up wide and...

FIRE.

Fire meant pain. Sheer, indescribable, unmatched, agonizing _pain_.

Somehow he managed to unfreeze himself from his sitting position in the chair right before it incinerated to ashes from Bowser's fire-breath. Turbo scurried himself into a corner, his legs curled up to where his knees reached his chin and he hugged himself as he tried to shake off the flashback of being burned alive in the Diet Cola Mountain and, to a lesser extent, almost doing the same in the _Brave Firefighters_' library. All he could see was the bright towering geyser of Cola Lava getting closer and closer to him by the second as his fear-induced daydream grabbed a hold of him.

Everyone in the room began cracking up, not realizing the full impact that Bowser's trick on him. Turbo didn't even notice at first and by the time he snapped back to reality the large spike-shelled reptilian creature had gotten even closer to him.

"Aww, is da wittle guy afwaid of fi-yuh?" Mishaela asked in a pouty baby voice, having finally had her attention drawn from her nails.

_Was_ he? Was he scared of fire? Turbo had never given it much thought until now. Could anyone really blame him though if he did?

His pupils were but tiny pinholes in his otherwise big yellow eyes as he stared fearfully at Bowser sneering down at him with some degree of amusement.

"Anyone want barbecue?" he joked...or _didn't_ joke, depending on whose viewpoint one was to go by.

Bowser's face suddenly went from one of playful malice to one of...shock. A pair of giant hands had suddenly latched onto his tail and Turbo watched dazedly as the Koopa King went first straight up in the air and then flying to the other side of the room, crashing harshly into the wall. It was enough to cause a mini-earthquake in the room, toppling all the empty chairs over, the coffee table's remnants scattered messily all over its surface, and the remaining villains even shrieked slightly as they held onto their own seats.

"What do you think you're_ doing_?" Ralph asked in a _very_ pissed voice, which was pretty frightening coming from a larger than life man known to possess a temper problem.

Bowser had landed upside down with tiny 8-bit Marios flying around his head to symbolize dizziness. He put a clawed hand to his head and groaned miserably, trying to roll over onto his stomach so he could try and stand up. Someone coughed and the sound of seat shuffling could be heard as everyone tried to put themselves back as they were originally. While everyone was distracted, Turbo took advantage and slowly crawled towards the door, which was thankfully on the adjacent wall to the right and not on the opposite one where Bowser had landed.

"I believe I asked a question," the wrecker repeated, his scowl not fading.

Kano finally spoke up. "We were just having a bit of fun, Ralph."

"Fun? _Fun?_" he parroted shrilly, not believing what he was hearing. "You call trying to scorch a guy to death _fun_?"

Bowser appeared sheepish as he stumbled his way back to his seat, knocking over his coffee cup in the process. "It _can _be."

"Now, Bowser," Clyde intervened in his usual calm manner. "We've had talks about controlling your urge to set fire to people that anger you."

He shrugged, feeling ashamed now that Clyde was getting onto him. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

"Oh, that's a load of bricks!" Ralph interjected, pointing fiercely at the Koopa. "You did it on purpose and you know it."

He then swept his disapproving gaze around the rest of the room. "And that goes for the _rest_ of you, too. I didn't bring him here for you guys to bully. I thought out of all the people in this arcade, you guys would be the most understanding of what it meant to be given a glimmer of hope that life isn't all about the bad things you do, but who you are on the inside. Being willing to change and show people that there's more to us than what we do."

"But Ralph..." Eggman started slowly, almost afraid to speak up. "That's _Turbo_ you're talking about."

"Who cares _who_ it is?" Ralph countered back. "That shouldn't matter. The point is that I brought him here because I thought it would benefit him to be around people that are kind of in the same position he's in. I know we never killed anyone or done any _real _crimes outside the ones we're programmed to do, but the outlook society has on us is the same that they have on him. It has the same effect. And since he's obviously going to be around for a while, I thought it would be a good idea for him to come here to try and figure out how to deal with the social exclusion he's going through."

No one knew how to respond to that. Even Clyde kept quiet, hovering just above the ground as he opted to let Ralph get everything off his chest versus interrupting him.

"Well, congratulations, guys," Ralph said, the edge in his tone apparent. "At least you know you're in the right spot. You're definitely 'bad' guys for sure now."

He turned around to ask Turbo if he was okay but to his surprise the racer was no longer there. Spinning back around, Ralph glanced around the room, wondering where he'd gone off too then realized he must have left while the attention was taken off of him. Without even so much as a good-bye, he bolted to the door, nearly knocking Mishaela out of her chair as he did so and went down the hall.

It didn't take long to spot him since he hadn't gotten that far. The poor guy had his hands in his pockets, his head hanging down to the floor as he barely shuffled along at a snail's pace. Ralph felt horribly responsible for what had happened, since he _should_ have been keeping an eye on him the whole time, but he hadn't counted on Clyde wanting to have a private talk out in the hallway.

Turbo could tell Ralph was behind him because of the loud footsteps and the vibrations in the floor. "If you think I'm going back in there, you can forget it."

"Turbo, I apologize _profusely_ for whatever happened in there. I never would have invited you over if I'd known they were going to pull a stunt like that."

The racer stopped for a second and sighed deeply, keeping his head down low so Ralph couldn't see his face.

"They were right," he said at length in a soft voice. "I'm not like the rest of you. You guys are bad because it's your _job_; it was given it to you by your developers. I'm bad because I'm..."

"Because nothing, look that doesn't matter anymore," Ralph interrupted him. "That's all water under the bridge."

"Yeah, and it's the same one that people would like to throw me off of and watch me drown."

Ralph was taken aback at his grim response. "Hey, now, don't be saying stuff like that. It's not healthy."

"Well, it's _true_, isn't it?"

The wrecker hadn't expected the sudden mood switch. Turbo had practically growled the words out, his head now raised to show off a pained glare. He may have looked mad but Ralph could see the hurt flickering behind those glowing eyes.

"There's no sense trying to sugarcoat it," Turbo kept on as more anger slipped into his speech. "Even people who do bad things for a living don't want me around. What does _that_ say about me?"

Ralph didn't even answer that, not sure what he would've said anyway. "Hey, take it from me, if you let people's opinions rule your life, it's going to make you miserable. I should know, I spent the first thirty years of my life letting my reputation as a villain keep me from trying to find happiness in myself. And yeah, there's still people that don't want to talk to me, but so what?"

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "I realized that I'm fine with who I am and I shouldn't have to worry living my life according to what other people say about me."

"No offense, but I doubt people were saying the same things about _you_ that they are about _me_," Turbo snipped back stubbornly, too upset to really listen to what was being told to him.

Ralph blew his breath out slowly, trying to avoid the temptation to pick the smaller man up and shake some sense into him.

"I appreciate the offer to help and all that jazz, but I think it's safe to assume I'm a lost cause," the racer added, turning away and walking off, signalling that he was done with the conversation.

"Where are you going?" Ralph called after him, hoping he didn't go get himself into trouble.

"To go make myself feel better," he muttered under his breath and with that he disappeared towards the portal train.

* * *

_Movie quote that I found heartbreaking in retrospect:_

_Ralph: Is it "Turbo" to want a friend? Or a medal? Or a piece of pie every once in a while? Is it "Turbo" to want more out of life?_

_Cyril the Zombie: Yes._


	7. Officer Bob

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Seven**

There was no way he was going home right now. Turbo couldn't bear the thought of walking in his front door only to be subjected to more sorrowful looks of pity from the missus. To think, she'd actually given him a proud smile earlier when he left with Ralph to go to...he didn't want to think about it. It had been naive and imbecilic of him to think that he could possibly be accepted _anywhere_.

He scanned the game titles flashing overhead above all the available portals in Game Central Station. This was his first trip alone here since he'd rejoined society. Part of him wished to have at least one person accompanying him so he wouldn't feel like such a loner walking through, but the other part of him _desired_ to be alone. Turbo began to walk, his mind laying out a mental map of the Station as he did so. He hoped Litwak hadn't done any rearranging with the older games or else he was going to be quite lost trying to find the one he was searching for.

His mind was so focused on his present task that he jumped when he heard a very enthusiastic, "Hiya, Turd-o!", from behind him.

He stopped in his tracks, hissed his breath out slowly through clenched teeth in aggravation and twisted his head around, recognizing_ that_ voice anywhere. Vanellope, President of_ Sugar Rush_, was accompanied by her friend Candlehead and they were both giggling about excitedly like they had both just had tablespoons of sugar injected directly into their veins.

"Whatcha doin'?" the raven-haired girl asked rapidly as the two of them began to bounce around the older racer. "Where's Rosie-Posie at, she still needs to come by and see the_ castle_!"

Turbo was embarrassed to catch himself shrinking back from the flame on Candlehead's hat and covertly blew it out so she wouldn't notice it right off the bat. Glancing about the Station, he noticed that even more attention was being drawn to him now that the little annoying candy brats were making themselves at home circling him like buzzards. He rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

"You idiots are making me dizzy," he said flatly. He timed the two girls' skipping patterns to determine when to make his move to escape this entrapment he was in and managed to slip by without a problem.

The girls noticed of course and skipped along after him, much to his ever-growing dismay.

"Don't you toothaches have anything _better_ to do?" he asked lowly, not bothering to turn his head to address them properly.

"You mean _batter_?" Candlehead snickered, meaning like cake batter.

Turbo was reminded of his days as king, blasting out candy puns like they were going out of style, and it irritated him more than it should have to have that time of his life brought back up. He had been busy enough reminiscing about his days at _TurboTime_, he didn't want to start dwelling on _Sugar Rush_ memories as well, even though those were a lot fresher in his mind.

_As fresh as baked bread, _he added mentally then groaned when he realized he was already reciting food-themed euphemisms.

"Where we goin'?" asked Vanellope.

"_We_ are not going anywhere."_  
_

"But we're _bored_!" Candlehead whined, throwing her arms up above her head.

"Yeah, we're waitin' on Stinkbrain to come back from his bore-snore meeting."

_Ha! BORE-SNORE meeting? If she only knew!_

Although, apparently she was unaware that Turbo had gone to the meeting as well, so the fact that Ralph had kept it a secret won him some bonus points.

"And you have chosen _me_ to be your evening's entertainment?" he asked in feigned excitement. "I'm _so_ honored."

Vanellope could hear the sarcasm in his voice. "Boy, _some_one's being a grumpy gummy bear!" She let a smirk slide through when she added, "I thought being married would mellow you out more."

"Don't you mean _marsh_-mellow?" he commented snidely under his breath.

Candlehead giggled but Vanellope blew out a raspberry.

"You know, I was going to say if you were nice you could come to the Anniversary Party we're in the process of planning, but if _that's_ how you're going to be then..."

He stopped paying attention to her before she finished her sentence, for at long last, he found the game he was looking for and it was right where he thought it would be. A sense of nostalgia came over him, a good kind this time. Many an afternoon had been spent here in the old days, a relaxing destination after a long day's work. Turbo couldn't have the kiddies follow him in there though, so thinking fast he turned around, pretended to see something in the distance and then pointed, saying,

"Oh look, there's the big guy now!"

The girls simultaneously spun around, peering into the crowd of people behind them. They didn't see anyone or anything resembling Ralph in the least.

"Where, I don't see him?" Vanellope asked after a good full minute of looking then turned back around to talk to Turbo again. "Hey, where'd he go?"

"_Hey_! Who blew out my candle?!"

* * *

Officer Bob from _A.P.B._ was programmed to catch criminals. It was his job, his life's passion to punish evil-doers, lawbreakers, hooligans, troublemakers, etc. However, the criminals in his own game were not _real _baddies of course, after all they were only doing what _they_ were programmed to do as well. Sure they had sour attitudes and liked to pull pranks of an extreme nature at times, but who _doesn't_ do that from time to time? There was no challenge for Bob to be in charge of arresting people that weren't even truly bad. Those guys were his _friends_ after all. No, he longed to catch _real _criminals, that is if any existed within the arcade.

_A.P.B._ had been plugged in several months earlier than _RoadBlasters_ had been in 1987, so he had known Turbo only slightly before he had done the unthinkable and game-jumped during arcade hours, effectively crashing the rival racing game, killing everyone in it, then causing his own game to go under. Officer Bob thought he had finally found a true criminal for him to be obsessed with. Turbo wasn't even a villain, he was the protagonist of his game, yet he had by his own free will caused a path of destruction and ruined lives with his pride and jealousy. It was almost too good to be true for the policeman. In fact, he thought it shame that the bastard had died because he wanted to see him punished for his crimes the way that he _should_ have been.

Since it was all-around assumed that the racer _had_ died with his game, Bob instead had to focus in his intentions on preventing the rest of the population from even _thinking_ about copying his actions. He would go around, whispering nonsense to people about how he'd overheard him talking about wanting to abandon _TurboTime_ and join up with _RoadBlasters_ in an attempt to take over it, defending himself by saying,

"He was drunk when he said it, you can't believe everything a drunk says. How was_ I_ to know he was being serious?"

Unknown to most, it was Bob that started using the term "going Turbo", as a joke amongst in his own friends, and it spread like wildfire from there. Soon everyone in the arcade was saying it and thus a legend was born. Horror stories popped up about seeing the dead racer in the night and ghost tales were told to cast him as a power-hungry monster. It didn't take long before everyone fell into the trap of "remembering" Turbo as being an egotistical jerk the entire time they knew him.

Well, not _everyone_. Of special note, that little twat girlfriend of his never fell for any of it. Oh, Bob _loved_ harassing her when he saw her, asking if she'd found any new murderers to date, or if she realized that she was just as bad as he was for not stopping him from game-jumping that day, or telling her she must not have been that special for him to just leave her like that. Sometimes he'd get the reaction he wanted and she'd cry about it, but most times she would sit there with a stony look on her face and tell him to go to hell. That always made him laugh.

But that was _then_ and this was _now_. Turbo was alive and actually had the _nerve_ to live amongst the rest of them as though he were normal. Officer Bob had been so livid when that fool Fix-It Felix, Jr. had stupidly allowed him to live in East Niceland, which had been Bob's home when the offer to live there became available. He had left along with a couple of his old friends, refusing to live anywhere near a _murderer_.

Bob had been watching silently from the side as he observed the racer getting booted out of certain games, becoming a laughing stock everywhere he went, his spirit breaking every day, and the officer derived great joy from this. It served him right, to think that he could just waltz back into society and things go back to the way they were. They say crime doesn't pay and that maniac needed to learn that. He had thought to join in on the festivities, but he opted to sit back and observe for a while until he decided to make a move. He had to plan accordingly.

Currently, he was sitting in _Tapper's_ at his usual spot enjoying a fresh beer when he saw Turbo walking in...or rather creeping in. He looked like a whipped dog, his eyes looking about to make sure the room was clear of anyone that would want to readily kill him and then wisely took a seat at a booth that was close to the exit. He looked exhausted, like he'd had a bad day (what else was new?) and Tapper went up to him.

Like, Peter Pepper at _BurgerTime_, Tapper didn't have a problem with Turbo being there. He remembered all the good days when he'd come in there and get everyone in a party mood, livening the place up, or having Tapper send shipments of liquor to _TurboTime_ so he could have a party there instead. He may have been annoying at times but he had for the most part been a stand-up guy.

"How's it goin', Turbs?" the barkeep asked him, getting a clean mug out from under the counter.

Turbo sighed wearily, resting his face in his hands. "Go ahead and give me two."

"Must not be goin' well," Tapper observed, having answered his own question upon hearing the request.

He pulled another mug out and filled both of them up, putting extra foam at the top because he remembered that's how the racer liked it. Tapper decided it best to leave him alone and turned around only to see Officer Bob strutting along the side of the booths, a hint of mischief teasing his eyes. The mustachioed bartender own eyes flashed and he stepped out, putting a firm grip on the policeman's shoulder.

"You start something, and I won't hesitate to throw you out..._again_," he warned him in a low growl so no one around would hear him.

Bob dismissively waved his other arm at him with a "pfffft!" and removed the other man's hand from him.

"Relax, Taps, is it illegal to have a friendly chat?" he grinned slyly.

Tapper's glare hardened but he stepped back away from him. "That better be all it is or I'll be suggesting you find a new pub to visit. I didn't tolerate harassing the patrons _then_ and I won't _now_."

Bob simply widened that Cheshire cat grin of his and walked past him. Turbo had already downed his first drink and was steadily working on the second one when the policeman took up a stool next to him.

"Well, well! If it isn't my favorite parking offender!" Bob said, slapping Turbo on the back with a flat palm.

It spooked him to be unexpectedly interrupted and he slammed his mug down, coughing due to beer going down the wrong pipe.

"My apologies," the officer told him, leaning over to the side to grab some napkins for him to wipe his face off.

Turbo had almost forgotten about Officer Bob; he had only been around a few months before the _RoadBlasters_ incident, but from what he _did _remember, the ginger-haired cop was a likeable enough fellow. He alsorecalled that he had a decent sense of humor, doing things like leaving fake parking tickets on the racer's car or flashing his lights at him like he wanted him to pull over. Rosie had always hated it when the two of them would be out riding around in the Station on their way to some other game's event and he would initiate a chase scene with the officer just for kicks, with her thinking that they were bound to run over someone. Needless to say, the two men had shared plenty of laughs before.

"Hi, Bob," the racer greeted him back after he got his face cleaned off. He glanced over at Bob's ever-smiling face and deduced that the officer wanted to talk.

"I, uh, saw Chief not that long ago," he mentioned casually, not really sure what to say. "I'm surprised Litwak pulled your plug. You guys started off really well when you got here."

Bob reached into his shirt's front pocket to dig out a toothpick, sticking it in between his pearly whites and making a show of using it like he always did. "Yeah, he didn't have much choice though. Some damn kid got too rough with the controls and messed up the steering wheel extension. My car kept leaning to the left more than usual and after enough complaints, we got the boot."

Turbo nodded in understanding, believing very much that if the stupid kids in the arcade had just kept on playing _TurboTime_ then he wouldn't have had to worry about getting unplugged in the first place. He drank some more of his beer, trying to savor it before asking for another one.

"But enough about me, what's going on with you, Mr. Comeback Kid?" Bob asked, switching the subject. "Things been going kinda rough, I bet?"

The racer hung his head down, not much in the mood to talk about himself. "You could say that."

He didn't see the gleeful smile on Bob's face when he said that, who was now twirling his toothpick between his teeth like it were a lollipop.

"So that's why you came in here?" the cop asked, pulling off a great imitation of compassion as he spoke. "To drown your troubles away?"

Turbo nodded once half-heartedly before finishing off his mug and shoving it gently in front of him on the counter, then raised his arm up to snap his fingers at Tapper to get him to come give him refills. Tapper held up one finger to say "gimme one second, be right there" and hurriedly try to fill up an order for the group of various ladies that were sitting on the other end of the room.

Bob scooted his stool closer to Turbo and placed an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in towards him and whispered, "You know, if you _really_ want to feel better, forget this watered-down junk." He motioned one of his hands over the beer mugs. "You need the hard stuff."

"Like what?" the racer asked, not sounding very interested.

"Oh just pick a poison. Whiskey, tequila, gin, etc. I prefer vodka myself," he suggested amiably, the mischief still dancing about in his eyes. "I can always let you have some of mine if you want to try."

Tapper come up to refill Turbo's mugs, shooting a piercing glare at Bob as if to remind him not to start anything. Bob just grinned at him and winked, acting utterly innocent. Once the bartender left, Bob patted Turbo lightly on the shoulder and pulled off him.

"Come on, I thought a risk taker like you wouldn't think_ twice_ at trying something new," the cop attempted to bait him.

Turbo wasn't very sure. It had been a long time since he'd had anything stronger than a beer, and even then it had been a long time since he had had just a _beer_. It was just last week that he'd had his first taste of the stuff in years.

"I dunno, Bobby, it's...it's kinda been awhile since I had any of that kinda stuff," he confessed slowly. "I don't rightly know if I could handle it anymore."

Bob chirped out a single laugh. "Ha! Gimme a break! If you could once, you can again. It's like riding a bike. Or a car, if you will."

Damn he missed that car. Little red baby with the white stripe on the side, spoiler in the back, and an engine that sang the most wonderful tune he'd ever heard.

Turbo shook his head of the cobwebs that were beginning to form and took a minute to gulp down one of his refills. He put the glass down and closed his eyes, using one hand to massage his forehead. The welcome dizzying feel of a buzz was starting to form and hopefully after a few more rounds it would be enough to make him forget this hellish day.

"Maybe later," Turbo said. "I'm not really up for it right now."

That was enough for Bob. He knew it would only be a matter of time before he cracked and would be begging for something stiffer. Bob smiled and patted the racer on the back again.

"Sure, whatever you want. Just find me when you feel like_ really_ forgetting your worries."


	8. Crashing Down

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Eight**

Turbo wasn't sure how he made it to his front door. Hell, he wasn't sure how he even made it out of the _bar_. He hadn't meant to drink as much as he did but each round just made him feel _so_ much better and before he knew it, it was a seemingly endless cycle of refills. Some ducks quacked and scurried to get out of his path as he slowly stumbled through East Niceland, having to stop a few times to get his wits about him before starting on again. Somehow he made it up his stairs without falling over and he fumbled with the doorknob to open it. The lights in the house blinded him and he had to shield his eyes with an arm while he groped the wall for the light dimmer, roughly twisting the dial all the way to the darkest setting.

Since he could only focus on one thing at a time, he completely failed to notice Rosie coming up and giving him a hug while he was fooling with the lights. She'd been so anxious for him to get home that she didn't even pay attention to the fact that he was drunk at first. She had her arm wrapped around his chest for a full hug and had her chin rested in the crook of his neck.

"I wasn't expecting you to get home _this_ late," she admitted to him, still not noticing what state he was in. "I was starting to get worried."

Turbo felt himself sway slightly and he awkwardly wrapped his arms around her to help keep steady. Doing so brought her slightly closer to him and instantly his inebriated mind went straight to the gutter. He cracked a lazy grin and raised his hands up to comb his fingers through her hair. Without warning, Rosie felt her head being pulled back and a hard kiss was planted on her lips, almost to the point of hurting her. She could smell and taste the alcohol now and the smallest ring of a warning bell went off. Turbo had her head firmly stabilized so she couldn't pull herself back, so she had to deal with working her arms back towards her to get in between the two of them and push back like that. She gave her head one good solid shake to get his hands off her and she set a pair of angry eyes on him.

"The hell you think you're doing?" she asked him, right when he made a grab for her shoulders to pull her back.

He laughed a moment as if he thought this was funny. "Come on, don't play hard to...hard to get."

Rosie dodged her head to the side when he tried to kiss her again. "Damn it, I'm not playing _nothin'_ with you when you're like _this_," she bit, twisting her shoulders so she could get his hands off her again.

He didn't seem to understand that she was being serious. He made another grab at her, this time getting his arms all the way around her so her arms were pinned down to her sides. Rosie didn't know what to do; she could have easily performed one of her basic karate tricks on him to make him get the hint to back off but she didn't want to hurt him either.

"What's wrong?" Turbo asked slowly, his eyes swimming slightly as he tried to focus on her. "Isn't it your..._job_ to...cheer people up?"

Okay, _that _was blatantly offensive.

If looks could kill, the one she was wearing would have certainly done the job. She had enough wiggle room to bend a knee up and stamp him hard on the foot_, _resulting in both him yelping and loosening his grip on her, _then_ she shoved him backwards off of her. He ended up slamming into the wall and a painful grimace crossed his face.

"Don't you _dare_ try to cheapen me!" Rosie spat out bitterly.

She had just physically hurt him and _now_ she was yelling at him. That was enough to swing his mood around from being lustful to pissed off.

"The hell's _your_ problem?" Turbo growled out, his eyes glowing like mad in the darkened room.

Her jaw dropped slightly in disbelief then she went back to being defensive. "_My_ problem? _My_ problem? _You're_ the one that came home drunk and started acting like I was just a personal whore! And what were you doing at the bar anyway, what happened to-"

He actually _rolled_ his eyes at her. "Don't lecture me, it's not like I've never done this before."

Rosie was briefly taken aback. "_No_, you _haven't_," she corrected him insistently, saying that he'd never acted in such a manner while drunk before. "Now, I don't care if you go off and get slap-happy drunk at a party somewhere, but you don't need to be doing it while you're not feeling right."

She knew quite well how easy it could be to try to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle; she'd done that the first ten years following Turbo's "death". She'd almost gotten herself killed because of it, and now she was worried that _he_ might end up doing the same thing, if he was going to keep this up. The racer, however, didn't seem to want to listen to her.

"I got nearly roasted by an overgrown freak turtle-dragon, thank you _very_ much," he snapped, rubbing his forehead where a headache was developing. "So sue me if I wanted to take my mind off it for a while!"

Rosie's defensive stance cracked when she processed that. "Bowser spat fire at you?"

"Yeah, it was quite the shits-and-giggles fest, let me tell ya."

Her face softened at the realization that he had gotten, once again, humiliated in front of a group of people. She almost felt bad for yelling at him. Turbo made an attempt to move to bar area so he could rest his upper body weight against it,his elbows propping him up; he was still rubbing his head as the pain there increased.

"Oh, champ, I'm sorry-"

"Damn it, stop being_ sorry_ for me!" he yelled at her, causing her to tense up considerably. He was _so _sick of hearing that. "It makes me feel _worse_ when you _do_ that!"

Oh that hurt. She felt some tears forming in her eyes as sadness enveloped her. The idea that she made him feel worse was a devastating blow.

"But I...honey, I can't _help_ but feel bad for you," she told him truthfully, her voice getting quiet. "I don't like seeing you get hurt."

"Well, it was _real_ smart to talk me into going into a room chalk-full of people that have more than enough means to kill me then, _wasn't_ it? Thanks for the suggestion, by the way, I feel a lot better about myself knowing that not even _villains_ think I'm worth the air I breathe."

The way he said it made her feel like he was blaming _her_ for what happened, as if she somehow knew something like this would happen. The bundle of nerves in her stomach grew larger as her own self-doubt flooded her senses, and she hugged her lower abdomen in attempts to calm down.

"I...I was just trying to help," Rosie whimpered, feeling some tears slide down her cheek. "You know I wouldn't put you in harm's way on purpose...I _love_ you."

She _loved_ him. As much as he appreciated that, why she did was still a mystery to him. He dropped his head down with a _thunk_ as the front part of his helmet hit the counter, preventing his face from coming into contact with it.

"I'm not the same person anymore," Turbo said gravely.

"What do you...what are you _saying_?"

"I'm saying there's nothing to love about me," he growled impatiently. "Maybe there was something back then, when I was _somebody_, but I'm nothing now."

Her heart stopped in shock at hearing this revelation. "For God's sake, don't _talk _like that!"

He felt her trying to hug him, which was a bit awkward due to how he was leaning against the bar counter, and he could also feel her start to shake a bit from holding the full extent of her emotions in.

"You're most certainly _not_ 'nothing', you're _everything_ to me!" she was telling him through her tears as she tried not to openly cry on him. "And I don't care if you don't have any of the things you had before. I fell in love with _you!_ Not your popularity or your trophies or...or any of that other stuff. I loved you for _you_, and that still stands today. You could have been the _least_ popular guy in the arcade and I still would've loved you because of who you are _inside_."

Turbo felt his heart swell a tad at the honest, loving words. However, the problem was that _he _didn't love him_self_, so it did very little to affect his mood to hear it from someone else. It didn't help that he wasn't exactly sober either, otherwise he would have responded to her a lot more appropriately.

"Honey, please, I'm too tired for this right now," he said instead, raising his head from the counter slowly. "I just want to get some sleep."

Rosie's heart was broke at his dismissal of what was a devout outpouring of love from her. Even _that_ hadn't made him feel any better. She felt like such a failure. Reluctantly, she released him from the hug she had him in and Turbo made an attempt to move forward, shoving past her so he could at least try and get to the stairs. All he wanted was a bed to lay in and sleep and hopefully not have any dead twin dreams. The mood he was in, if he _were_ to have one, he might be tempted to kill those two morons _again_.

Initially, he had some trouble with his footing on the stairs, slipping on one step a few times before being able to keep it there firmly in place so he could pick up his other leg. He had a death grip on the stair rail, which he was now thankful they had decided to have put in. Naturally, Rosie wanted to help him up them but she didn't want him yelling anymore. She didn't know how much more of that she could take. So she stayed at the bottom of the stairs, glancing up every now and then to make sure he didn't fall, trying to tell herself that once he got some sleep he'd feel better and maybe even apologize. After all, she had said some pretty mean things when _she_ had gotten drunk during her time of depression. Maybe this wasn't any different.

Maybe.

_He never once said he loved me back_, a little voice in the back of her mind told her, and she got teary-eyed again.

Turbo finally made it up the stairs, yet the light from the kitchen was blinding him so much that he had to both squint his eyes shut and throw an arm up in front of them.

"Damn freakin' lights," he muttered, raking his hand across the wall to find where the switch was.

By completely accident since he had his eyes shut, he ended up bumping into the table in his quest for the light switch. Already aggravated about not being able to open his eyes without blinding himself, he grew even more irate at this interruption.

He never even saw the cookies on the table.

With one arm, he flipped the damn furniture on its side to move it out of his way, the contents of it crashing loudly onto the floor. Rosie heard the commotion from downstairs and her heart jumped, thinking that he'd done hurt himself. She jogged up them and when she saw the mess he made, she put her hands up to her mouth to muffle a tearful gasp.

Turbo's hand finally located the light switch and the whole house grew dark instantly, and his eyes were finally able to have some relief. He stumbled back the way he came, trying not to trip on one of the chairs that had been toppled along with the table and shuffled his way down the hallway to the bedroom, slamming the door closed.

Rosie stayed there in the dark for a moment, not wanting to see the mess again. Finally, she decided she couldn't very well stay that way forever so she carefully inched her way along the wall so she could turn the lights back on. It was even worse seeing it a second time. Her poor cookies that she'd worked so hard on lay in a strewn pile on the floor, the plate they'd been sitting on smashed to pieces, and the treats themselves broken and crumbled in places.

So much for cheering him up.

She tiptoed her way around the table and knelt down to start picking up the debris, large tears falling on the floor as she did so. All she wanted was for him to go back to the way he was, his normal happy-go-lucky self, and _nothing_ she had done had been enough to do that. Her bottom lip quivered as she tried not to sob, but she couldn't handle the pain anymore. A combination of sadness and anger rose in her and she threw what she had already gathered in her hands back to the floor and ran out of the house.

* * *

Felix was just coming back from visiting with Q*bert and sharing some pie with him when the sight of someone sitting on the bench by the duck pond caught his eye. Out of curiosity, he squinted his eyes to see better and recognized the person as being Rosie. Now normally, Felix would stay as far away from the duck pond as possible as he had certain..._issues_ with being around them (the whole trying to kill him during the game thing, you know). However, something told him that there was a problem and being the nice guy that he was, he felt it his duty to at least ask what the deal was.

Thankfully, most of the ducks were not present, although there were two in the pond itself and one of them had taken to nesting in Rosie's lap. She had her head down and was stroking the top of its head with one of her fingers. It didn't take a genius to tell that she definitely was not in a cheerful mood.

Felix didn't wish to go anywhere near the..._duck_...so he stood a few feet away and cleared his throat instead to get her attention. Rosie turned her head at the noise, and the duck went flying off of her to go into the pond with its friends. The girl wiped her eyes and dropped her head back down to her lap.

"Hi, Felix," she said quietly.

"What's the matter?" the handyman asked out of concern.

He went to go sit down now that the duck was gone, but he kept an appropriate amount of space between them so not to give any wrong ideas. Couldn't be too careful about _that_ no matter where you were.

"_Everything_," Rosie sniffled, hugging herself with her arms. "It-it was _horrible_. Turbo came home dr-drunk and started raving like, like a lunatic. I...I tried to calm him d-down, but he...he said I made things _worse_."

Felix's eyes bugged out. "He _said_ that?"

She nodded sadly, slumping slightly more on the bench.

"I...I can't believe that," said Felix, scratching his head in confusion. He couldn't even_ imagine_ Turbo yelling at Rosie like that; he had always known him to treat her like she was one of the stars in the sky. "Well...what did he say when you gave him those cookies?"

Much to his horror, Rosie started crying_ more_. "He-he knocked them on the f-floor."

Felix turned his head towards Rosie's house and then back at her. He knew it wasn't any of his business but it really irked him to hear that. His "hero nature" wasn't going to let him just sit idly by and watch his friends' lives fall apart like that, especially if one was starting to hurt the other.

"Is he still at home?"

Rosie couldn't do much else but nod, then curled her legs up to her so she could lean her face against her knees and cry that way. Felix hopped off the bench, a determined look in his eyes.

"Just stay here, I'll try to fix what I can for you," he told her kindly before bounding off.

Stay there? Why bother? Why stay somewhere that made her feel as shitty as this? She couldn't handle anymore heartbreak right now. After wiping her face yet again, Rosie got herself up off the bench and tried to collect herself. She winced at the mere thought of even going back home. Even if Felix did manage to talk some sense into Turbo, would that really make it all right? Even if he apologized to her, would that really be enough to undo the damage he caused?

She wasn't sure. She loved him, but unless he did some major straightening up, she didn't know if this was going to work out. The very idea that her still very new marriage could be falling apart was enough to send her over the edge again but she choked it down. No, she wasn't going back in that house. At least not right now.


	9. She Left Me

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Nine **

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_

Turbo cracked his eyes open at the sound of loud knocking from the front door. Damn it. He'd been having a peaceful bout of sleep for once. At least his headache was gone now. Still, he didn't feel like getting up. Besides, Rosie should still be in the house..._she'd_ answer it. He groaned and rolled back over to finish his nap. He didn't hear anything for a while, then-

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK  
_

Okay, _that_ was coming from his bedroom door.

"I'm _trying _to _sleep_!" he yelled out, covering his face with his pillow to drown the noise out.

He heard the door creak open and next thing he knew, someone had grabbed the covers on his side of the bed and jerked them hard enough to send the racer toppling out of bed. Turbo felt disoriented to find himself suddenly in a heap on the floor, rubbing his head where he had hit it.

"You explain yourself _right_ now, mister!" he heard the amusingly serious voice of Felix demand of him.

Turbo jerked his head up and glared at his friend. "I think I should be asking _you_ that! What the _hell_ do you mean by barging in here and-"

"Never mind that!" Felix cut him off angrily. "I just want you to know that I think you're the biggest..._jerk_...I've ever met!"

"Didn't we already establish that?" Turbo grumbled as he tried to pick himself up off the floor, using the mattress for assistance. "Besides, I thought we moved past my brainwashing your wife into forgetting you?"

"That's _not_ why I'm here!" Felix insisted impatiently, even going so far as to stamp his foot...a little. "You ought to be _ashamed_ of yourself! Your wife went through a lot of trouble today to do something special for you and you just destroy it like it was nothing? What's gotten _into_ you?"

"_What_ are you _talking_ about?" Turbo asked in confusion as he finally got back in bed, leaning his back and head against the headboard so he'd be propped up.

Felix had already seen the mess in the kitchen when he'd bounded up the stairs, and he grabbed Turbo by the hand and dragged him back out of bed, forcing him to walk around it to get to the door.

"Fix-It, have you lost your mind?" Turbo was growling now, trying to pull back from the grip he was in. "I'm not in the mood for games!"

"_Good_, 'cause I'm not playing one!"

When they got to the kitchen, Felix nearly threw Turbo in front of him and pointed down at the destruction that was still there.

"She made you a plate of your favorite cookies and you heartlessly knocked the whole thing onto the floor!"

Turbo's temper went down and he felt this terrible pang of guilt ride into him when he saw what Felix was referring to. Sure enough, right beside the overturned table was a broken plate and ruined helping of chocolate chip cookies.

"I...I didn't even see them there," he said quietly, running a hand through his hair. "I had no idea."

"Then _why'd_ you knock the table over?"

"The light was hurting my eyes so I had them shut, and I got pissed off trying to feel for the switch so I just..." he paused and didn't say anything else, thinking it obvious what had happened after that.

She'd made him cookies; his _favorite_ cookies. There was no telling how long it had taken for her to get them right, even with someone helping her. He couldn't imagine how upset, how _hurt_ she must. She probably thought he did it on purpose.

Felix relaxed when he saw that Turbo was acting more rational...and remorseful.

"Where's she at?" the racer asked, not turning to look at Felix straight-on. He put one hand on the table for balance and rubbed his face with the other one.

"She's sitting by the duck pond._ Crying_, I might add."

"Yeah. Of course, she is," he said, barely whispering it. "I did go off on her pretty hard earlier. I was so _tired_ of her feeling sorry for me."

"It's called _sympathy_, you silly goose," Felix lightly kidded. "She loves you, how _else_ is she supposed to react when she's sees you're having a rough time?"

Turbo sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. I just...I just want her to be proud of me again, is all. She used to look at me like she thought I was the most important person in the world...like I was a star. She doesn't do that anymore. Now she...she _coddles _me all the time and it makes me feel like a baby."

"Turbo, I assure you that she still thinks the world of you or she wouldn't even bother," Felix told him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She sure wouldn't have _married_ you. And I don't know why you're complaining about 'coddling', I mean, would you rather her not give a flying rat? Pardon my language."

"No, I guess not," he had to admit.

What _had_ gotten into him? Looking back, Turbo couldn't believe he'd caused so much damage, drunk or not. He had come home and made the one person that had been there for him feel possibly even worse than _he_ did. It was a terrible feeling knowing that he had hurt her so much.

"Well, you gonna go apologize or what?" Felix queried, giving his friend's shoulder a little shake before releasing him. "The sooner, the better."

"What if she doesn't accept it?"

"Don't be ridiculous, she's not a child holding a grudge. If she sees you're being serious, she'll forgive you."

Turbo pondered on that a bit. Well, she _had_ forgiven him for committing murder, but then again that really had nothing to do with her anyway. No, _this_ had been a personal attack...she might not swing so easily on this. Could he really blame her if she didn't?

"Look, I'll even walk halfway there with you," Felix offered. "Come on, now, I've seen you walk into dangerous situations before without batting an eye. Surely this is easier."

"Not really, but if you say so."

* * *

There was no need to even walk halfway there. Turbo could tell the bench was empty right away. He stopped dead in his tracks, an overpowering sense of depression sweeping into him.

"She left me."

Felix gave him a curious look. "Don't go jumping to conclusions," he said in reassurance. "Maybe she just fell asleep and we can't see her."

Turbo's eyes fell to his feet, his eyes visibly getting wetter by the second. "I don't think so."

Felix couldn't handle the sight of his friend crying so he dashed the rest of the way to the bench, mentally praying that he was correct in his assumption. He felt his heart drop when he saw that he had indeed been very wrong. Where did she go_? _Felix turned back around slowly towards the racer, who had glanced up long enough to see that Rosie had in fact left.

"She left me," he repeated quietly.

"Jimminy jamminy," Felix quoted under his breath as he headed back to his despondent friend. "Now, don't you start all that. I'm sure she didn't go too far. She might have just went to stretch her legs, is all."

Turbo wasn't listening. "I...I didn't m-mean for her t-t-to go," he stammered out, tears slowly making their way down his face. "I d-d-didn't want h-her to l-l-leave."

Felix didn't know how to fix _this_, if he even _could_.He pasted a nervous grin on his face and turned Turbo around to start pushing him back home.

"How about you go back inside and I'll find Rosie and bring her back?" he suggested in an overly friendly voice, glancing around East Niceland as they walked in hopes that he would spot her somewhere. He didn't.

"W-what if she d-doesn't _w-w-want_ to come back?"

"Think positive, pal," Felix reminded him, though truth be told he was a little worried himself.

He perked up when he saw Q*bert and his pals outside in the square of East Niceland. That gave him an idea.

"I know!" he exclaimed happily, momentarily stopping his pushing of Turbo. "Maybe Q*bert saw where she went."

Turbo wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "You think so?" he asked with just a hint of hope in his voice.

"Maybe. It's worth a shot, right?" Felix put his fingers together and whistled. "Hey, Q*bert, can you come here for a minute?"

The adorable orange game character jogged over to where the two men where and began to talk in his unique language. Turbo didn't understand anything he said but Felix was thankfully somewhat fluent.

"Yes, you're welcome again for the pie earlier," Felix told him with a smile. "Hey, have you by any chance seen Rosie around anywhere?"

Q*bert answered and Felix listened intently while Turbo hung back and waited anxiously for a response. The look on Felix's face after he had mentally deciphered Q*bert's answer did not seem very promising. He asked the orange creature something and again waited on the answer. Finally, the conversation seemed to have ended and Q*bert bounded away back to his friends. Felix had this look like he didn't want to say what was on his mind.

"She _did_ leave, didn't she?" Turbo asked sadly, sticking his hands in the pockets of his houserobe.

Felix felt horrible, not to mention uncomfortable, being the bearer of bad news. "Q*bert said he saw her get on the train to the Station and..."

"You don't have to say anything else," the racer interrupted him hurriedly, his eyes quickly flooding with tears again. "That-that's all I n-n-need to h-hear."

He turned around to walk himself back home, the sound of audible crying reaching Felix's ears. The handyman was at a loss on what to do. He skipped a few paces to catch up to him.

"Look, maybe she just needed to clear her head," he theorized, walking alongside his buddy. "Or she went to see a friend somewhere. Just because she left the _game_ doesn't mean she left _you_. She'll be back, just wait."

"W-why _would_ sh-she come b-b-back?" Turbo asked him, wiping his face. "A-after what I put h-her through?"

"Because she loves you, why else?"

That didn't seem like a very convincing reason. How much lenience did love offer in situations like this?

* * *

_She LEFT me_.

After Felix had made sure Turbo got to his house in one piece, those three words were all the racer could repeat in his head for a good five minutes. He sat there on his couch blinking ahead of him into space, not fully believing that this real-life nightmare was happening to him. It was the worst thing he could think of, that she had left him of her own free will...because of something _he_ did.

Part of him said to get up and go find her, however long _that_ took, and beg her to come back home and forgive him for being a such an insensitive dick; the other part said that no matter what choice of action he made now, he'd done too much damage for her to take any apology from _him _seriously.

Sweet milestones of their relationship came sweeping into his mind: how they'd first met, their..."first time"..., their first date (strangely, it _did_ happen in that order), the first time they'd ever said 'I love you', their first anniversary...the wedding...

There had been a long period of time when he had marginally trained himself to not remember these moments, due to him having thought she was dead up until approximately a week ago...but now, he couldn't shove them out of his head even if he wanted to. Turbo grabbed the large accent pillow that was laying on the couch beside him and pressed it up to his face, allowing himself to sob into it.

He couldn't imagine anything worse than her not loving him anymore. Oh sure, he knew that was a silly, childish thing to think that she could just suddenly not love him anymore, but it really hurt that she had left. Maybe she would come back, maybe she wouldn't. He wouldn't blame her if she decided to stay away from him. He suddenly felt more lonely than he'd ever felt in his life, even more than when he'd first gone into exile following the fateful _RoadBlasters_ event. At least then he'd been able to resort to anger and bitterness to keep his mind slightly preoccupied from his depression, unless of course those emotions had simply been but extensions of it.

A drink. That's what he needed. A drink would take away the pain he felt, even if only temporarily.

His eyes were stinging from having rubbed tears away so much and fresh ones coating over the raw skin. He opened the liquor fridge up and grabbed the one remaining beer that he had (only _one_ left?) and wasted little time popping it open to chug down. It took faster than he thought it would to finish it and he quickly realized that he was going to need something else to do the job. Something _better. _

And just like that, the words of Officer Bob floated back to him:

_"You know, if you really want to feel better, forget this watered-down junk. You need the hard stuff...Just find me when you feel like__ REALLY_ forgetting your worries."  


* * *

Officer Bob had to admit that was astonished to see Turbo again so soon. It hadn't even been a full night out in the real world, yet Litwak still had a good three hours to come back to the arcade. The ginger-haired policeman was situated on some benches in Game Central Station just outside of _Tapper's_ with two of his cronies, Freddy Freak and Candy Goodbody. Their respective vehicles were parked nearby: a squad car bearing the number 54, a flowered hippie van, and a purple/pink sports car. Freddy was a tall buff guy with long scraggly blonde hair with a scruffy beard, his eyes red from so many years of drug usage; Candy was a voluptuous pouty-lipped woman with kinky brown hair and too much make-up (it was fairly obvious just by looking at her what her..._profession_...had been in _A.P.B_.).

When Bob had caught sight of the white-clad racer, he noticed the look of distress he was wearing and immediately one of his shit-eating grins worked its way into existence. Candy blew a ring of cigarette smoke from between her lips and raised one of her perfectly plucked brows at him.

"Whatcha lookin' at, doll?"

"Shaddup, woman," Bob said harshly, but it didn't faze her none. In her line of work, she was used to that kind of treatment.

"I'll be right back, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone...if that's even possible," he told the two of them as he raised himself from his seat, straightening his tie and his hat as he did so.

"Turbs!" he greeted in his most friendly voice, his arms open wide in a welcoming gesture. "Back this way _again_?"

It was obvious that the racer had been crying...a_ lot_. The fact that he was so miserable almost made Bob crack a smile, but he managed to force it down and keep up his façade of "good ol' buddy". Turbo had his eyes cast down to the floor, tears starting to fill in them again.

"I...my wife, she...she..." A big tear fell out and landed on the tile floor. "She _left_."

Again, Officer Bob was astonished, never thinking he would hear _that_. But then, what did he really care? It took everything in his power to keep from laughing cruelly in the poor man's face, thinking he deserved to have that little whore he was so fond of leave him.

"You don't _say_!" the cop gasped, putting a hand to his heart. "That's just _awful_!"

Turbo simply nodded, not wanting to go into details with it.

"Well, I'm just so sorry to hear that, my good man," Bob told him with as much of a sympathetic voice as was possible for him to pull off.

"Thanks," Turbo whispered, his hands in his pocket. "I...I feel weird askin', but...what you said earlier? About the harder liquor, does that offer still stand?"

On the inside, Bob was glowing, grinning ear to ear, and dancing a merry jig. He knew it would have only been a matter of time before Turbo would want to try something stronger than beer, but he never dreamed it would be so soon!

Bob put a friendly arm around the depressed racer, a forced frown on his face as he said, "Why of _course_ it does, pal. No one can handle something like that on their own. Come over here with my buddies and we'll make sure you forget about that for a while."

* * *

The sound of a punching bag being hit was the only one that could be heard in the workout room. Rosie was so focused on directing her hits appropriately that she didn't know that someone had come into the room. She was trying to take her mind off the sadness and bitter anger that she felt, and maybe even childishly pretending that the bag was a certain you-know-who's face.

"Good evening, child."

Master Splinter's voice frightened her out of her thoughts and she spun around quickly to face him. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was just him.

"Good evening," she greeted back, doing a courtesy bow towards him.

"I must say, I was surprised to hear from your brothers that you were in here," Splinter commented, getting straight to the point. "They said you wouldn't tell them what was wrong, so I thought perhaps you would care to enlighten _me_."

Rosie sighed and turned her head away as sadness overpowered the anger she felt.

"Something happen at home?" he wisely deduced.

"You can say_ that_ again," she replied sadly, taking a seat in one of the chairs available, her head hanging down and her hands clasped together in front of her between her knees.

Splinter stood quietly for a moment, waiting to see if she might say anything in addition to that. When she did not, he asked,

"Did you have a quarrel? Words exchanged?"

From his position, he could see two falling tears hit the floor beside her feet and she wiped her eyes with her shoulder.

"Not so much an argument as just him yelling at me," she answered him. "He even knocked over a plate of homemade cookies I baked for him."

Splinter remembered the multiple attempts that Rosie had made to cook for them during her time of living in the sewers and he made a quick grimace of disgust. He couldn't really blame the guy for not wanting anything she cooked, as mean as that sounded.

As if she could read his mind, Rosie added, "Don't worry, I had help with them so they turned out _perfect_. He was just being a temperamental sourpuss."

Splinter smiled wisely and took a seat in the chair opposite of her. "Now, child, many times the ones we love do things that hurt us. No one knows why they do this, or why we do it back, but the fact is that we still love each other despite our faults."

"I _do_ still love him," she responded tearfully. "But I don't want him taking out his frustrations on _me_, when all I've been trying to do is help."

"I understand he's had several issues since coming back into public view."

"That's no reason to be mean to me."

"No, it _isn't_," he agreed. "However, I think that perhaps it is causing his self-esteem to suffer, and thus he feels he does not _deserve_ any of your affections. Or perhaps he does not even realize he is hurting you...it could be he believes he is venting, except he is doing it incorrectly."

Rosie sat silent, thinking that over. She leaned back into her chair and crossed her legs in a lady-like style with her hands folded in her lap. "I guess. Still doesn't make me feel any better though."

"You won't feel better until you both sit down and have a mature conversation. That requires going home," Splinter hinted firmly, yet gently. "You cannot hide down here forever."

"It worked once," she stubbornly reminded him.

"It didn't last forever that time, either."

There was a pause, then, "True." She sighed and looked down at her hands. "I just want things to go back the way they were."

"Then, you need to make them that way. Nothing is impossible. You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out."

She smiled slightly at that. "Thanks. In the meantime, is it okay if I stay here until I get at least a little more satisfaction punching something?" she kidded, jabbing a thumb at the punching bag.

The ninja master smiled back in his fatherly way. "As long as you need."

* * *

_Do you guys need a happy flashback chapter? I believe you do._


	10. The Very First I Love You

_Turbo: Psst! Guys, it's Author Lady's birthday! So let's wish her a turbo-tastic day! :D And here's a happy flashback chapter to cheer us all up from the depressing mood she's been putting us all in. I apologize for anything perverted that comes out of my mouth...okay, not really, ha! Enjoy!_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Ten**

**_Jungle Hunt - January 1984_**

Inside the car, Rosie was sitting on her knees with her hands gripping the top of the passenger door, looking out at the thick jungle foliage that lay out before them with a look of worry about her. She and Turbo had been dating about seven months now and she _knew_ that by now she should be used to him wanting to do something crazy every once and a while. Like right _now_. Turbo had already jumped out of the car, eager as usual to go on an adventure and had decided that Litwak's newest game would be the perfect place to go.

"What about the wild animals?" she was asking, turning her head around in all different directions every time she heard the slightest sound. "And I heard there were _cannibals_ in this game." She gulped at the idea of being eaten alive.

The racer was propped sideways with one arm bent and rested against the car's spoiler, his fingers interlaced lazily together in front of him and one leg crossed. He playfully rolled his eyes at her with a little smile.

"They don't eat anyone _after_ the arcade closes, silly girl," he pointed out in reminder that no one ever acts the way they do outside of gameplay.

That devilish grin of his appeared and he added cheekily, "Besides, _I'm_ the only one allowed to do that to you."

The cheerleader blushed heavily and the hint of a smile played at the corner of her mouth, and _his_ smile got wider in response. She never failed to make him feel good about himself no matter the situation, whether it be her cheering for him at his after-hour races or hearing her brag about him when she didn't think he was listening or by how she reacted to his, _ahem_, other certain skills of a private nature.

Rosie tried to not let the conversation drift off into the gutter, hard as that was. "They _might_," she told him, going back to the cannibals. "I mean, you still like to race after Litwak closes shop, maybe they like to eat people afterwards too."

Turbo changed his position so that he would be directly in front of her, leaned down to rest his forearms on the door in a way that his hands would cover hers and he craned his neck out to where he could talk close to her ear.

"I'll do that thing you like if you get out of the car," he propositioned using the same sensual voice that he used during intimate moments and just barely letting his lips graze that part of her jaw that connected to her neck.

Her face flushed even more and the rest of her reacted appropriately in response to the slight torment he was putting her through. It was a little embarassing to admit that he had the means to make her do whatever he wanted, even if it _did_ pay off in the end in her favor. At the same time, it was most appreciated to be spoiled on a daily basis and she daresay she looked forward to it.

She was about to ready to suggest they just get back in the car, forget about this jungle shit, and go at it at the closest private location they could find (_Tapper's_ washroom was becoming a frequent go-to spot) when some kind of animal screeched loudly from the foliage. It effectively snapped her out of the mood, disappointedly enough.

Rosie shrank back in response to the noise which was hard to do with him leaning on her arms like he was. "I am _not_ getting out of this car," she tried to say firmly but it came out shakily instead.

Sighing deeply, Turbo released his hold on her and leaned back to stand up properly, turning slightly in the direction of the awaiting jungle behind them.

"How's this," he began, holding her chin with one hand so she'd focus on him. "I'll go out there and prove there's nothing to be scared of. _Then _will you get out of the car?"

Her eyes widened even more than they already were. "_Hell_ no! You're not going out there by yourself!"

"I assure you, it's _turbo-tastically_ safe," he told her, dropping down to give her one of those quick "mwah!" kisses and then walked off.

Rosie thought he was just pulling her leg, thinking he'd stop after a few feet and then say he was kidding, until he actually kept on walking. Panic seized her and she gripped the top of the door even harder.

"Turbo, get your dumb ass back here!" she called out, looking around warily for signs of danger.

She saw him turn and wave at her before disappearing into the brush. This wasn't happening, _surely_ he wasn't going to really trek alone through the damn jungle just to prove a point. He'd probably come back after five minutes, or at least until he figured out that she wasn't going to follow him. Rosie sat there with only the occassional sound of the jungle to keep her company, drumming her fingers along the door's edge anxiously. At one point, she started humming her game's theme song and whispered one of her cheers under her breath to help calm her nerves.

She never once took her eyes off the location where Turbo had entered the jungle, hoping he'd pop back out after giving up on her following him. How long had it been? Five minutes? Ten? Longer? It crossed her mind to just drive off, since she could kinda-sorta drive, but he'd already taken the keys out and stuck them in his pocket.

"Turbo?" she called out loudly, under the suspicion that he had loitered around the edge and not really went in all the way.

She suspected wrong. The blood-curdling scream she suddenly heard was definitely from a good distance away. Goosebumps prickled her skin and her breath hitched. Without thinking twice, she leaped out of the car and high-tailed it for the treeline, shoving past low branches and brush and fighting through a few dangling vines once she made into the jungle itself. The canopy overheard cast a large never-ending shadow over the area though a few patches of light shined through which gave the location an almost other-worldly look. A few monkeys screeched from the distance in response to someone tearing through their habitat like a deranged person.

"If that idiot got hurt, I'll never forgive myself," she muttered to herself while she ran.

If it hadn't been for the river blocking her path, Rosie would have kept running. Luckily, she stopped herself before tumbling into it, taking the oppurtunity to catch her breath. Surely, he hadn't crossed the river? _If_ he hadn't, then...where was he?

Her heart was pounding and her lungs were burning from her lengthy sprint. A few small unidentifiable noises came from the brush behind her and she spun around wildly, fearful of getting attacked herself.

"Ch-Champ?" she stuttered, rubbing her own arms in comfort. "Honey?"

Tears began to pool in her eyes. What if he _had_ gotten hurt? What if something _had_ gotten a hold of him and now he was nothing but dinner digesting in some wild beast's belly? Or getting cooked in some cannibal stew? Maybe if she'd just gone with him like he'd asked her to, that would've been enough to keep him safe.

A random notion came to her as she viewed the river again. Oh shit, what if he'd fallen in and hit his head and drowned himself? She hadn't even considered that possibility. Almost afraid that she was right, she slowly made her way back to the river bank and took every precaution in leaning over to view into the crystal clear water, praying that she wouldn't see-

"RAAAAAWR!"

"AHHHH!"

She jerked forward when she heard the growling roar behind her and did an awkward slip right into the river. Water came up over her head and she fought her way to the surface, her arms flailing about wildly in fear that whatever hungry carnivore had decided to sneak up on her was now ready to pounce and tear her apart. Her head popped up and she gasped for air, sputtering water out of her mouth and heard...laughing.

"I wish I could've seen your face!" Turbo was cracking up, doing everything in his power to keep from falling over on the ground in the process. "That was a Turbo-_classic_!"

Rosie wiped the water from her eyes and stared up at him with shocked astonishment.

"You...you're _okay_?" she asked as if she couldn't believe it. "You're not_ hurt_?"

"Of _course_ I'm okay," he responded as he rubbed the tears away with a sleeve. "I_ told_ you it was safe."

She was still stunned..._relieved_ yet stunned. And a little pissed. "That...that wasn't _funny_!"

"Yeah it was!" he argued as the giggles subsided, still wearing that grin of his. He got closer to the edge of the river and bent down with his hands on his knees to look down at her. "Got you out of the car, didn't it?"

Rosie lowered her eyes piercingly, crossed her arms and turned her head away from him huffily, causing the end of her ponytail to fling some water from the sudden motion.

"Awww, now, don't get mad," Turbo chuckled lightly. "Gotta admit, it's the fastest I ever got you wet."

If her face hadn't already been red with anger, she would have blushed at that but she was too pissed off to respond to any form of dirty talk. She cut him a sideways glare before closing her eyes to him, holding her chin up haughtily.

_Uh-oh, she must be really mad,_ Turbo worried to himself.

"Hey, come on, that was a good one," he told her, trying to lighten the mood.

She wasn't having any of it. Shit.

Turbo held his arm out to her, still staying in his bent over position, and snapped his fingers to get her attention. "At least let me pull you out," he offered. "Don't want the crocodiles to get you."

She turned her head at that but the scowl was still present. Her eyes went back and forth between his hand to his face, as if trying to decide if he was going to pull his arm back right when she reached for it. After deciding he was being sincere, she grabbed hold and...

Turbo felt himself get pulled forward with more force than he expected and was promptly flipped over into the river. When he surfaced, he was greeted with a tidal wave aimed at his face and he threw his arms in front of him defense, coughing as he did so.

"How _dare _you!" Rosie snapped bitterly, still bobbing in the water a good foot away from him. "You made me think you were hurt just so you could pull some stupid _prank_?"

"What are you so _mad_ about?" he wanted to know. He took his helmet off to let the water drain out of it before putting it back on. "I _always_ pop out and scare you like that. You normally think it's funny."

"Dumbass man!" she spat acidly, trying to wring water out of her ponytail. "I'm not pissed because you jump-scared me; I'm pissed because I really thought you had gotten attacked by something when you were just fine-and-dandy the whole time! You knew I was scared to come out here and you took advantage of that just for the sake of you getting a good laugh out of it!"

Turbo let the words soak in, not saying anything at first. Then he pulled one of his damn smug expressions and asked, "So...you were _worried_ about me?"

He was honestly happy to know that she cared about him so much that she'd run off into what she felt was a danger zone in an attempt to rescue him. It was kinda cute actually. However, Rosie misunderstood the grin he was wearing and thought he was making fun of her for being concerned about him when there was obviously no danger around.

She shoved another miniature tidal wave of water in his face, making him cough some more and try to wipe his face off. By the time he was able to see again, she'd done crawled herself out of the river.

"Screw you, I'll just walk myself home."

She turned around on her heel and stormed off in the direction that she had come from earlier. How dare he, how _dare_ he! She had really been worried about him and for what? Obviously he didn't give a shit how she felt if he was going to pull a mean trick like _that_ on her. It hurt her feelings more than she thought it would and she felt herself start to tear up.

Meanwhile, Turbo didn't know exactly what the hell it was he did wrong. All he knew was that if he didn't fix it, she was going to walk away and possibly not want anything more to do with him...which was the _last_ thing he wanted. He started pulling himself up onto shore and shook off the remaining water from his suit.

"Rosie, come back!" he called to her as he ventured out after her, whacking a few lower branches out of the way. "Wait up, I'm sorry!"

Obviously she didn't believe him because she kept on going. He finally caught sight of her after a few minutes of fighting his way through some more thick foliage and ran up to her.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Turbo said as he tugged her arm from behind so she'd stop and she jerked it away from him.

He was determined however and he got in front of her, putting his hands out on her shoulders to make her halt. Rosie turned her head away from him and kept her arms crossed, not going to say anything until _he_ did.

"Look, I'm an idiot and I'm sorry," he said, giving her sad puppy-dog eyes. "I didn't know you were going to get worried about me like that."

She tilted her head towards him just enough to look at him through the corner of her eye. "Yes you did," she replied slowly. "Otherwise you wouldn't have even tried your stupid prank in the first place."

Turbo considered that. "Okay, you're right, I guess I _did_ know."

She sighed in aggravation and he added gently, "But I wasn't doing it to be _mean_. It was just a joke, sweetie, I wasn't bullying you. I'm sorry if it came across that way."

Rosie looked at him studiously as she thought over what he said. Maybe he did really did care. She finally relaxed her shoulders and turned her head fully towards him. Turbo sighed to himself, glad to have succeeded in doing _that_ much. She had him scared she was really going to leave him.

She still didn't say anything, so he took a breath to continue. "I really didn't think you were going to get that scared over me. I never would have done it if I'd known you were going to be _that_ worried."

"So you didn't think for one second that maybe I actually cared what happened to you?" she asked with a mix of hurt and anger in her voice.

"I...guess," he shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. "I mean..."

She rolled her shoulders to get his hands off of her. "Well, I _do_ care!" she peevishly informed him. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be in _love_ with you!"

As soon as she said it, the color drained from her face and she slapped a hand across her mouth, taking a few steps back away from him.

_I can't believe I just said that! Out loud! Oh shit, he's really gonna think I'm some stupid kid now!_

Turbo stared at her in silent shock after hearing her confession, his jaw slightly dropped and his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

_She...she said she..._

Rosie had started wringing her hands together and looking at the ground, digging one of her shoes into the dirt. More than anything, she wished that the jungle floor would swallow her up and save her from this mortifying predicament she was in.

"I...I mean...I didn't...," she spat out, trying to figure out what to say to fix this mess she caused but she couldn't seem to think of anything. "Pleasedon'tlaughatme."

Turbo wasn't paying attention to anything she was doing or saying because he was off in his own little world. This warm fuzzy feeling came over him and the whole world fell into place like a finished jigsaw puzzle. It all made perfect sense. Why he liked being around her all the time, why she made him feel like a million bucks, why he got so freaked out at the very idea of her leaving him. It was because he-

Rosie tensed up when he stepped up closer to her, putting his arms around her in a way that pinned her arms down so she couldn't push him off. She didn't want to look at him, knowing that he was going to tell her that she was just some silly girl with a crush and that he hadn't meant for things to get to this point because-

"I love you too."

She snapped her head towards him and gave him a similar expression that he had given to her earlier. Turbo was giving her the most adoring look as he stared into her eyes with the sweetest smile on his face.

"Y-you do?" she asked in quiet disbelief.

"Of course, I do," he answered, secretly hurt that she thought she needed to ask that. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

"But..." She seemed confused. "But I'm not anything special."

Turbo's face fell, appalled that she felt that way. "Not anything..." he repeated as if it was the craziest thing he'd ever heard. "Why the hell would you think _that_?"

Rosie shifted her eyes away from his again, feeling stupid again. "It's just...it's just that...well, you're _Turbo_."

He appeared baffled, giving her a rather odd look before he shrugged as if to say "Yeah, so what?".

She swallowed hard, her heart going down into her stomach, trying not to look at him.

"You're this really cool fun guy that's...well, popular," she clarified, feeling worse now than she did already. "And you've been around a few years longer than I have. I'm still sort of new and don't know much about this sort of thing yet. So I sometimes think I'm not good enough compared to any of the other girls you used to date before we met or...just good enough in general."

Initially, Turbo stared at her in silence. Then he took his arms from around her, reached his hands up to frame her face and turned her head towards him. Rosie was a little caught off guard at his serious expression. He was _never_ serious.

"You're special to _me_," he started off solemnly, looking deep in her eyes and caressing her cheekbones with his thumbs. "And you're the best girl I've ever had. Don't ever think you're anything but. When I'm with you, I feel like..."

He paused a second to think of how to word it.

"I feel like... how I feel when I'm on the racetrack," he finally said, inspiration coming to him. "With the adrenaline rushing and feeling like I'm king of the world...like...like I won the best and brightest trophy imaginable."

It was the sweetest thing she'd ever heard. Rosie felt her eyes start to water up.

"As for any other girl..." He had to chuckle at this part. "It's precious at how misinformed you are about me."

Turbo let go of her face and held his hands up as if he just got busted. "I'm new to this too; I've never had a girlfriend before."

She opened her mouth to ask what the hell he was talking about but he finished the thought before she could get a word out.

"You're the only girl that ever even had a real conversation with me, much less go on a date with," he confessed to her, holding her hands. "All the others...they were just looking for a romp, and that only happened when liquor was involved. So you're a hundred thousand times better than any of them because you're the first to give me a real chance."

Happy tears rolled down her cheeks and he smiled sweetly at her as he wiped them away, then wrapped his arms around her waist again while she threw hers over his shoulders.

"You weren't supposed to _cry_," he told her in light jest. "Feel special now?"

Rosie smiled back at him and managed to get "Mm-hmm" out without crying anymore, her green eyes shining at him brightly. Turbo grinned at her, feeling both glad and proud that he was able to make her feel that way...which was the same way she made _him _feel.

"I love you, pretty girl," he whispered as he locked eyes with her, gently pulling her close enough to where their lips were mere millimeters away from touching.

She had to swallow in order to speak, which was hard to do what with her heart feeling like it was ramming in her throat, and she whispered, "I love you too, champ."

The remaining distance between them was closed with a tender kiss. It shouldn't have had a different effect that any other kiss they'd shared had on them, but this one seemed...deeper, in a spiritual sense. This one actually _meant_ something, it seemed, something beyond just petty attraction and desire to spend time with each other...No, this one was a _true love_ kiss and it meant something deeper than either of them could ever try to explain...and there was no need to try and put a definition to it. The only thing that really mattered was that there _was_ love there and at that moment in time, that was good enough for them.

* * *

_**Present Day**_

_Champ..._

He wasn't a champ anymore...not to her or even to himself. He was a _chump_...a chump that was now trying to drown out his sorrows with a bottle of borrowed vodka, sitting in the company of false friends. The more he drank, the more he forgot the heartache he felt that he had run her off for good, feeling that he didn't deserve any better than this. Whatever happened now, he didn't care; he deserved it. If she wasn't going to come back, it didn't matter anyway. If she _did _come back...

_What makes you think she'd come back? You're a pathetic wimp of a has-been loser that had the nerve to yell at her for trying to make your day a little more tolerable. Yeah, that sounds like the kind of guy she'd love to come home to._

His eyes swept briefly over his left hand, the golden ring still faithfully there. He wondered if she still had hers on or if she'd chunked it somewhere because she didn't think he'd meant any of his vows.

_Not like I'm doing a good job keeping them anyway...apparently, since I haven't done anything but make her so miserable that she LEFT. _

So he sat there and drank...and drank...aaannd drrrraaannk...


	11. The (Non)Trip to TurboTime

_Thanks for the birthday wishes guys :) You guys are as turbo-tastic as always! Turbo ate all the cake (it was chocolate, so he pigged out) so I cannot share, unfortunately. But here's a new chapter for you guys! :)_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Eleven**

"You...you guys are my...my _bestest_ f-friends."

"_Dayum_, didn't take long for him ta get wasted, did it?" Freddy Freak was asking as Turbo gave his tattooed arm an over-enthusiastic hug.

Candy Goodbody rolled her eyes and flicked the stub of her cigarette down on the floor, crushing it under one of her red pumps. "All right, Bobby, what's the story here? I thought you _hated_ this guy?"

Bob grabbed the back of her hair roughly as he yanked her ear closer to his mouth. "And I thought_ I_ said to keep your slutty mouth _shut_," he hissed angrily, though secretly he was loving the pained expression on her face. "I _do_ hate him, that's why we're boozin' him up so it'll be easier to knock him off."

"You mean_ kill_ him?"

"I said _shut up_!" He released her hair and then proceeded to smack the back of her head with an open palm.

Turbo didn't know _what_ was going on; the vodka he'd been steadily drinking was_ much_ stronger than anything he was used to. Hell, he didn't even know if he'd ever had it before. The world around him was nothing but a kaleidoscope of colors, sometimes interrupted by something that resembled a face. Words were mixed up in his head, only understanding if one were to talk slowly and directly to him.

"Hey...you f-fellas like _sing-ing_?" he asked happily, still having one arm looped through Freddy's.

The large hippie seemed almost ecstatic at the idea, a wide grin stretching on his face. "Boy, _do_ I!"

Officer Bob shot him a glare, silently punishing him for encouraging Turbo in engaging in ridiculous behavior, but the damage was done. The racer put a hand to his heart, cleared his throat and started belting out,

"The..._wheels..._on...the _car_...go...round and...round...round and...round...all a-round...the_ track_."

His head had started spinning from all the "rounds" and he laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Freddy couldn't help but laugh too. Bob grumbled something under his breath, hanging his head down and lightly hitting his own skull with his fist in aggravation.

"Hey, dude, spell _banana_," Freddy told him, snickering behind his free hand as he did so.

Turbo brightened up...then got cross-eyed and the goofiest grin spread on his face.

"B-a...n...a...n...a...n...a..n...a...n...a..."

Candy was smirking at this show of insanity, never having seen anyone so off his rocker before. Bob was gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, doing everything in his power to keep from punching the fool right in the face to get him to shut up. Even in his own game, he had been allowed to physically abuse others: when the player caught one of the criminals, they had the opportunity to let Bob shake them violently until they confessed, using a "Confess-O-Meter" to gauge how far along they were.

"All right, that's _enough_!" the cop burst out suddenly, standing up from his seat and cinching his black tie tighter to his collar.

Bob clasped his hands together and smiled, still trying to put on friendly airs towards the racer so he would go along with whatever it was he told him. Taking just a few steps to get to the other bench, Bob sat beside Turbo who had been chuckling from saying too many "n's" and "a's" and threw an arm around him.

"Hey, Turbo, you know what will make you _really _happy?" he asked him with the biggest fake smile the world had ever seen.

Turbo looked at him through eyes that would drift off to the side due to being unable to focus and gave him a genuinely friendly grin. "W-w-what's...that?"

"_Think _about it," Bob was coaxing him forcefully, squeezing his shoulder a little too hard and shaking him a little. "Don't you miss..._racing_?"

Turbo's eyes lit up at the word. "Yeah," he sighed, a pleasant look on his face. "That, that was f-fun."

An increasingly menacing gleam shined in Bob's eyes. "You want to do it _again_?"

Freddy, who was simply just wanting to drink and be merry, started getting wiser about what was going on. "Hey, Bob, I thought we was just havin' a lil' fun drinkin' and the like."

The officer scowled so hard at Freddy that the large hippie decided to keep his mouth shut.

Turbo was bobbing his head up and down, a rather awkward motion since he could hardly function without assistance as it was. "_Yeah_, I...I wanna rrrrrace. I'm the..._best_...you know."

"Yeah, yeah, we know, we know," the cruel policeman was dismissing him hurriedly. "Listen, but we can't let you just race _anywhere_, right? I mean, we want to see you in your natural element."

The intoxicated racer just stared at him blankly with a completely innocent and perplexed smile on his face, not knowing what in the world he had just been told.

Bob sighed in annoyance, but kept up his exterior outlook of friendliness. "You know, go back to..." He checked around him to make sure no passers-by were listening. "_TurboTime_."

"Ecstatic" could hardly begin to describe how Turbo felt at the idea of going back to his real home. His mind was so far gone that he didn't even remember that that was impossible. Freddy opened his mouth to say something but he slapped it shut, not wanting any reprimandation from Bob.

"I...I can go...go back?" Turbo asked happily, a surge of worthiness and importance coursing through him at the very idea.

Officer Bob patted his shoulder and grinned at him. "Of _course_ you can!"

He motioned for Candy to go start her car. "You just get in the backseat of my squad car, and your ol' pal Bobby here will take care of _everything_ for ya."

Turbo pretty much fell flat on his face, a chorus of giggles erupting from him, when he tried to move forward. Bob dropped his smile and replaced it with more hateful expression, his eyes narrowed down and his teeth clenched as if he were growling.

"Freddy, assist him in the back of my car," he said flatly as he pulled out a toothpick from his front shirt pocket, sticking it between his teeth and sauntering over to his squad car.

The barrel-chested man effortlessly picked Turbo up, who was still laughing from falling over, and opened up the back door to Bob's car before tossing him in. The racer laid on his stomach for a while there, cracking up at the movement of being thrown somewhere and landing on something soft.

Bob was already in the driver's seat and he facepalmed himself, running his hand down his face tiredly as he observed this from the rearview mirror. Only a little while longer and this idiotic free-range _murderer _would be permanently out of everyone's lives for good. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

* * *

"Well, here we are!"

Turbo felt the car jerk to a stop right before Officer Bob made his announcement. Getting flung to the floor seemed to be even funnier than anything else that had happened to him since his trip down Vodka Lane began. Bob cut the engine and got out, slammed his door shut, and swung open the door to the backseat, grabbing the racer by the elbow and jerking him out of the car and allowing him to fall on the ground.

"Car ride!" Turbo exclaimed cheerfully as he laid on his stomach in the dirt, giggling the whole while.

"Not yet," muttered Bob under his breath, waving for Candy to park her car parallel to his own.

The officer took a moment to look down from the hilltop they had parked at to swing his eyes over their location: the citrus-themed track of _Sugar Rush_. This wasn't one of the main tracks, it was an unlockable bonus track that players could race on if they scored enough points. The small area consisted of the yellow winding track that went around a large lemonade pool with a geyser fountain installed in the center, shooting up lemonade straight into the sky at timed intervals. Jumbo sized orange and yellow gumdrops dotted the otherwise empty landscape while tall white and orange swirly trunked trees of lemon and orange hard candies bordered the edges of the location. It was under one of these trees that the trio of non-residents were situated.

They had been able to sneak into the game thanks to Freddy harassing the Surge Protector, acting as though he wanted to go inside _Tapper's_ to sell drugs, which of course was a _huge_ no-no. The _Sugar Rush_-ians were all supposedly engaged in a meeting over at the starting line of the Royal Raceway, so there shouldn't have been anyone around to witness what was about to take place.

The curvy brunette swung out of her vehicle and strutted up to the policeman, one hand on her hips.

"I hope you don't mind us using your car," Bob said in a quiet voice, running his hand down the hooker's flank until he reached her of her butt cheeks to squeeze...hard. "I'll pay you back later. I won't slap you around so hard next time we...uh..." He smirked, letting the sentence finish itself in her mind.

"You always _did_ say I was your favorite to interrogate," she replied dryly, looking off to the side.

"I had a couple of reasons," he remarked, letting his eyes wander up and down her body. The game developers had certainly given her an appropriately inappropriate name.

Bob bent down and tapped Turbo's helmet a few times with his knuckles. "Hey, racer, you can't drive from down there."

Turbo tried to get his legs to work, which he found was not as easy as he thought it would be. He smelled something sweet and tangy in the air and his mouth started watering. His eyes cracked open but he couldn't see much of anything except for the wave of colors floating about.

Tired of waiting, the policeman stood over Turbo to where he could grab him under his arms and hoist him up to his feet, shoving him into the side of Candy's car so he could hang onto that for balance.

"Key still in the ignition?" Bob asked Candy to the side as he roughly assisted the intoxicated racecar driver in opening the car door.

Candy simply nodded, opening her purse to pull out a cigarette and a lighter before she leaned back against Bob's own car to smoke.

The sporty purple and pink car only had two seats, so Bob just settled for opening the passenger side door and shoving Turbo inside that way. Then he jogged over to the other side and started pulling the still giddy man over into the driver's seat. _Finally_, he got him sitting in the appropriate way, even going so far as to put his hands on the steering wheel for him.

"Look out there," he instructed Turbo, pointing with his hand out past the windshield.

Turbo followed his finger with his eyes and blinked a few times to clear his vision. He saw...green fields and a...yellow race track. His eyes squinted with happiness at the familiar image. _Home_. He was back home, back at _TurboTime!_ He couldn't believe it, it was really there right in front of him!

"What do you see out there?" Bob asked him. "You see _TurboTime_?"

"I n-never thought I'd see-see it ag-gain," Turbo was smiling blissfully, small tears of joy coming to his eyes.

Bob was unable to believe his luck at how easy this idiot could be suckered just by getting him drunk. Amazing how alcohol affects people's minds. The policeman grinned and patted him on the shoulder supportively.

"It's nice to see it again, huh? Why don't you go out there and test it out, get reacquainted with the ol' stomping grounds?"

Turbo sat quiet for a moment, still unable to process what was really going on and also still extremely overjoyed at the notion that he had somehow made it back to the one place where he felt he truly belonged. He nodded and grinned widely, squinting his eyes shut briefly and uttering a little "squee" of joy.

A malicious smile of evil replaced the friendly one Bob had been wearing far too long. He went so far as to even crank the ignition for the racer and then slammed the door shut, backed up and gave him a mock salute in farewell. The policeman trotted around to where Candy was leaning on his car and waited to watch the show.

"Nighty-night," he sang darkly, his features drawn up in a look of malevolent glee. "Good riddance to bad rubbish."

Inside the car, Turbo gripped the steering wheel with both hands, a _turbo-tastic _feeling if there ever was one. The sound of the engine purring filled his ears and the air-conditioning blowing on his face was enough to simulate the outside wind, tricking him into thinking he was in a regular racecar and not a closed-top regular car. His eyes tried to focus more and there it was, the familiar yellow-colored track of _TurboTime,_ waiting for him to rule it once again.

Even though he was so intoxicated that he was experiencing a delirium of turbo-tastic proportions, Turbo still had enough sense in his code to do one _very_ important thing before attempting to drive. He grabbed at the seat belt and fumbled with the end of it as he clumsily attempted to shove it into the locking mechanism.

"Sssssafe-ty _first_," he mumbled to himself in reminder, mentally patting himself on the back.

Grabbing the steering wheel with both hands again, he felt his heart pounding in that old familiar way it used to when he used to race all the time. He felt around with one hand for the shift-changer then clumped his foot about for the clutch, but could not find it. This confused him but it dawned on him in a eureka moment that this must be a remodel; it was an automatic as opposed to a manual like he was accustomed to. Turbo shrugged at the change, not really in a condition to think too much of it. He grabbed the stick that changed the car's position from "park" to "drive" and...

down the hill he flew, gaining speed faster than was possibly considered normal (or even safe). The track, the glorious track was just right there, he was _almost there_ within its reach! Soon he'd be racing around in his old simple circle, only going left just like the good old days; _God_, it had been so long since he'd just maneuvered around an old-fashioned track such as the one at _TurboTime_.

His eyes lost focus and he made the fateful decision to close his eyes to rub at them, making him lose control of the car completely. Thankfully, instead of driving straight into the lemonade fountain and drowning in it (which had been the plan), he crashed headfirst into a giant orange gumdrop. The airbag in the car went off and his seatbelt tightened, both of them preventing him from slamming into the windshield, which had shattered on impact. Smoke rose from the hood and the car died there on the spot, completely totaled.

Bob and Candy had been watching from the hilltop, Bob throwing his hat on the ground and stamping it repeatedly while cursing loudly when he'd seen that the plan to have Turbo drown himself had not worked. Really pissed now, and with the most scornful look of irritated evil marking his features, he kicked the side of his own car enough to rock it considerably.

"Damn it! God _damn_ it! Got him too drunk to steer straight! _Damn it!"_

Candy knew better than to say anything while Bob was throwing one of his famous tantrums so she silently let herself into the backseat of his car and sat there with the window rolled down so she could continue smoking. Bob was cursing and ranting and stomping about like a nap-deprived toddler.

"If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself," he finally said once he'd calmed down enough to make coherent speech. "I'll just go down there and drown him _myself_, like I should've done in the first place."

"Then why'd you do it _this_ way?" Candy dared ask from where she was in the backseat.

He turned and screamed the answer so hard that his face turned even redder than it already was, almost to the point of being purple. "_Because it would have been fun watching the so-called greatest racer of all time kill himself while DRIVING A CAR ON A RACE TRACK! THAT'S_ _WHY_!"

"Cruel irony," the hooker snorted to herself.

Bob was just about to go marching down the hill to execute who he felt was the world's most notorious criminal-at-large when thankfully he was stopped when two of the Sugar Rush racers unexpectedly showed up. They looked like twins, only one was green-garbed and one was yellow, and they had both driven up and parked close to Candy's crashed automobile. Bob cursed more under his breath but figured that he wasn't going to risk getting caught in a game he had no business being in, so instead of doing as he said he would, he simply got inside his car and backed up to leave the way they had come.

Now, Minty Zaki and her color-swapped twin Torvald Batterbutter had left the big meeting together (their other sister, Sticky Wipplesnit, had decided to cruise with Taffyta Muttonfudge for a while) and were just riding around goofing off in their karts when they both heard what had been Turbo crashing. Out of curiosity, they had decided to check it out and drove towards the Lemonade Loop (the name of the track). Upon seeing the destroyed car rammed into the giant orange gumdrop, they immediately parked their own karts and ran to survey the damage.

"What an _ugly_ car!" Minty proclaimed, turning her nose up at the outdated vehicle, the front end of it accordianed into the side of the gumdrop.

Torvald ran to the driver's door and opened it, then gasped and stood back as she bugged her eyes out at who was inside. "Sis! Come here, quick!" she called in a panicked voice.

Minty ran to her sister's side and she also let out a small gasp. "Jumpin' jellybeans! Is that _Turbo_?"

Turbo wasn't moving in his seat and his eyes were shut, his head hanging forward to where his chin was almost touching his chest. Torvald was scared but she shakily stretched out her arm to touch his neck to check for a pulse.

"Whoa! He smells drunk," she gagged, pinching her nose with her other hand once the alcohol scent hit her.

She let out a small sigh of relief when she felt a pulse and could see the slight rise and fall of his chest to signify that he was breathing. When he unexpectedly groaned in pain, she let out a little shriek and jumped back, wiping her hands off on her skirt as if she had just touched a dead person.

Minty laughed at her twin's reaction but she quickly made herself take control of the situation. "You think we should get him out of the car?"

"Are you crazy? He's bigger than us, we'll just drop him."

"He's not _that_ much bigger. The two of us should be able to hold him up."

"But what if his neck's broke or something? If we move him, it'll just get worse. Or we might accidentally kill him."

Minty sighed as she considered that possibility. "Okay, how about one of us drive to the castle and get Vanellope and ask _her _what to do. She'd want to know about Turbo being here anyway. And then the other of us can stay here in case he wakes up."


	12. What Now?

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Twelve**

Vanellope had raced to the Lemonade Loop as soon as Minty told her what she and her twin had found there, unable to believe it until she saw it for herself. Sure enough, there was Turbo sitting in a crashed car in front of an orange gumdrop with Torvald keeping him company. Vanellope slapped her forehead in frustration as she tried to figure out what to do.

"We only have two hours 'til the arcade opens!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air as she paced about frantically. "What the heck did he think he was _doing_, gettin' boozed up and crashing some outlandish car into one of our tracks?"

Torvald tugged at her sleeves nervously. "Well, Miss President, while I was waiting on you and Minty to come back, I took a break from watching him and followed the tire tracks up that hill."

She pointed to where she was referring to and the other girls looked up in response. "There was actually _two _sets of tracks up there, but the second one had turned around and gone back the way they came from the looks of it."

"So you're saying this might not have been entirely his idea?" Vanellope asked her, stroking her chin. "I suppose that's a possibility. But regardless, whoever was with him is long gone by now and the fact remains that we still have a slightly damaged course."

"It's just the grass and this one gumdrop, your presidency," Minty said in effort to make the situation not look so bad.

"I _know_, ga-DOY!" Vanellope rolled her eyes. "But if this course gets unlocked by a gamer today, they can still _see_ it. Not to mention, we gotta get rid of that eyesore of a car."

She snapped her fingers as an idea came to her. "I've got it! There's still enough time to get Fix-It Felix over here, repair all the damage including making that car driveable again, and then get Turbo outta here and back home."

A prideful grin played across her face and she stuck her hands inside her hoodie's pocket. "I'm a genius."

* * *

Rosie got home within an hour of the arcade opening. Needless to say, she was not expecting to see Vanellope's kart parked by the side of the house and most certainly did not expect to see the pint-sized candy girl and Fix-It Felix, Jr. waiting on her inside the den.

Vanellope was sitting on top of a stool with her legs dangling off the side, swinging them back and forth aimlessly while she helped herself to a soda she had gotten from the upstairs refrigerator, blowing bubbles in it through a straw. Felix was pacing across the room with his hands behind his back, constantly checking the front door. They both had quit what they were doing upon hearing the door open and Rosie gave them both a fearful stare.

"What happened?" she asked, almost afraid to know as she shut the door slowly behind her.

Felix took off his hat out of respect but that made her think something else entirely.

"Oh my God, he's not _dead_ is he?" Rosie immediately assumed, feeling the onset of a crying spell coming on.

Alarmed, Felix slapped his hat back on. "No, no, he's not dead!" he was quick to correct her, calming her down almost instantly. "He's perfectly fine."

"Yeah, except for the fact that he's still _un-con-scious_," Vanellope snidely added with a roll of her head.

"_Unconscious!"_

Felix cleared his throat. "We don't know what exactly happened, but from what we gather, Turbo got more drunk than usual and-"

"Got his hands on the ugliest car in the world and parked it accordian-style into one of my giant gumdrops," Vanellope finished for him, resting an elbow on the bar.

Rosie didn't know whether to be happy that he was alive or be mad at him for doing something so stupid or be mournful that things were spiralling further out of her control. With a groan, she rested her face in one of her palms and fell into a sitting position on the plush couch.

"Where did you go earlier?" Felix decided to ask. "Turbo thought you'd up and left him."

Rosie lifted her head back up and blinked hard at him. "He thought I _left_ him?" she repeated in wild disbelief. "Why in the...all I did was visit my family for a while! How could he possibly think that-"

"I don't know," Felix interrupted her. "I told him that you probably just went to clear your head somewhere but obviously he thought otherwise."

"Where did he get a_ car_ from? That's what I want to know," Rosie asked, not sure who in the world would offer a drunk something to drive. Honestly, even though it sounded mean, she didn't know who would give _Turbo_ a car, the way people were treating him these days.

Felix hated to be a fink, but he _had_ recognized the vehicle that the former racer had been driving.

"Well, it _looked_ like Candy Goodbody's car," he informed her. "I remember it from when she used to live over here with Officer Bob and-"

Rosie's eyes flashed and lowered at hearing the names. "What was he doing with that self-righteous _asshole_ and his little _whore_?" she asked angrily through clenched teeth, grabbing the accent pillow to squeeze her nails into.

Vanellope started snickering behind her hand upon hearing the two "grown up words" while Felix had more of a panicked-concerned reaction. He knew how Rosie felt about Bob and he didn't want her to blow a fuse just thinking about him.

"Now, Rosie, calm down," the handyman said soothingly. "We don't know what hap-"

"That toothpick-chomping smiley-face of a dick always had the most hateful things to say about my baby and make me more miserable than I already was after he disappeared!" she practically shrieked, her nails still digging into the pillow like it was an oversized stress ball. "So don't tell me to _calm down_ after telling me that he was hanging out with the likes of him!"

"I know that," Felix replied calmly. "I understand you're upset but no one knows what happens but Turbo, and right now he's passed out in bed so we can't ask him. I'm sure it's not as bad as we think it is."

Rosie gave him a doubtful look but she did start trying to calm down anyway. She rested her head against the back of the couch, already worn out from the day.

"Thanks for bringing him home in one piece."

"It's no problem, ma'am," Felix smiled, patting his hammer on his toolbelt out of habit. He coughed and cleared his throat. "Um, not to bring up bad memories, but you remember that talk I gave you a long time ago? Back at Chun-Li's?"

Rosie nodded slowly, remembering very well. It wasn't the fondest memory she had.

"Might want to give him some version of that," he suggested. "Or at least think about it and act according to what you think would be best for him."

She nodded again, keeping quiet. "I'll try."

Felix smiled then cleared his throat while glancing at his naked wrist at an invisible watch. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat some more but the arcade opens up soon so I need to get ready."

"All right, bye, thanks again," Rosie told him as he let himself out.

Vanellope hopped off her stool and bounced herself onto the couch beside Rosie, almost immediately sinking down into the plushness of it.

"Don't you need to get back too, Miss President?"

"Oh, I sometimes take myself off the roster to give one of the others a chance to race," Vanellope explained casually, subconsciously chewing her hoodie strings. "And don't worry about any damage he caused at my place, Hammer Time took care of it already."

"I'm really sorry about that," Rosie said tiredly with a groan.

"It's okay," the child shrugged it off. "Since he can't take over again, I don't care if he visits..._sober_."

"I don't know what I'm going to do with him," Rosie admitted to her as she rubbed her neck. "He misses his old life, with the racing and the winning, and he thinks he's not worth anything. He keeps getting shunned by everyone which isn't good for his self-esteem. Everytime I try to do something though, he gets mad or thinks I'm just doing it because I feel sorry for him."

Vanellope knew how_ that_ felt. When she was still an outcast in Sugar Rush during the days of "King Candy", she had been given both the cold shoulder treatment _and_ bullied. There had been times during those days that she felt she wasn't worth anything either, questioned why she even existed, even though she _knew_ that deep down in her code she was meant to race and be part of the game.

She thought very carefully before she spoke. "I..._might_ have an idea on how to help him out...if I can get the other racers on board and if we can even get him to agree to it."

Rosie raised a curious brow.

"And _you_ are going to have implement some tough love," Vanellope continued, pointing an authoritative finger at her. "This mushy holding-hands stuff isn't gonna work for him to make him snap out of it, so you're gonna have to get a little firm with him."

"I don't know if I can do that," the teen admitted quietly. "I don't like the idea of being mean to him."

"I'm not saying be _mean_, silly, I meant just lay down some ground rules. Pretend he's an overgrown kid or something. He's in trouble and you have to do whatever it takes to make sure he doesn't do it again. Give him an ultimatum. _Anything_ to force him to do whatever it takes to get him normal."

Rosie blew her breath out and curled her legs up under her. "All right, I'll do my best. But what's this little plan of yours exactly?"

Vanellope scooted herself off the couch and landed on the floor with both feet. "Lemme go back to _Sugar Rush_ and have a quick chat with the others first. They should all be gathered around the starting line anyway. I'll be right back."

The miniature president glitched herself out of the house and Rosie heard the sound of her kart starting up and leaving the premises. She wondered what the little moppet had up her sleeve, hoping whatever it was would work. She was all out of ideas on how to help Turbo deal with this depression he was under.

Rosie recalled Felix saying he was sleeping upstairs so she decided she best check up on him. After slowly opening up the bedroom door, she took a peek on the bed and found he had rolled up onto _her_ side of the bed, curled up in a ball with his head on her pillow. Rosie sighed to herself and sat down on the bed beside him, looking down and watching him sleep for a while. He looked so peaceful laying there, not a care in the world, as he slept off his hangover.

He was still wearing his helmet so, thinking he'd be more comfortable, she gently wedged her fingers underneath the edge of it to carefully pry it off him. She hooked it on the knob of the bedpost where it normally stayed. In his sleep, Turbo curled his arms tighter to him and shivered like he was cold, so Rosie put a hand to his forehead to see if he was running a fever. No, he felt normal. Since he was sleeping on top of the covers, Rosie had to tug the blanket from the other side of the bed and make do with covering him up that way in a makeshift cocoon.

That seemed to stop the shivering and Rosie reached her hand out to pet his head, tenderly running her fingers through his short black hair.

"You could have died, you know that right?" she whispered so not to wake him. "I love you too much to let you hurt yourself like that, so you can just forget having another drink for a while."

He didn't say anything of course, just laid there and slept. Rosie let her finger drift down to trace the features of his face; across his brow line, where ironically he didn't even have eyebrows, just smooth gray skin that personally she always found more exotic than "corpse-like" (yes, she had actually heard people say that); down his cute little upturned nose that she liked to give "eskimo kisses" to; around his big orb-shaped eyes that, thanks to the slightly darker skin tone around them, gave off the appearance of being sunk in when they really popped out; a lot of people may have considered yellow eyes unnerving to look at, but she'd always thought they were more mesmerizing than anything, especially when they glowed in the dark; and then on around his mouth where a few laugh lines were present.

That must have tickled even in his sleep because he gave a lazy hint of a lop-sided grin when she did that. Rosie smiled and leaned down to kiss his temple. Okay, bad idea, he really did _reek_ of alcohol. She wrinkled her nose and raked her hand through his hair one more time before getting off the bed and leaving the room, closing the door gently behind her. She let out another sigh and leaned back against the door, letting the back of her head hit it gently as she did so, as she remembered _her_ last time indulging in alcohol as a means to erase painful memories away.

* * *

**_Street Fighter II - 1997_**

Another bottle shattered just above Felix's head as it hit the door, but this one just barely missing him. Shards of glass rained onto his cap and he involuntarily ducked and threw his hands over his head to pointlessly shield himself.

"I said to _piss off_!" Rosie yelled at him viciously as she threw the covers back over her and buried her head under her pillow.

Felix sighed deeply, trying not to get aggravated, and he took off his hat to shake the remnants of the beer bottle off of it before placing it back on.

"Rosie, I know you had a bad day, but..."

"I don't wanna hear it, damn it!"

"But everyone's worried sick about you drinkin' this heavily," the kind handyman pressed on, much to her extreme annoyance. "You gave everyone quite the fright when you fell off the roof today."

Her eyes flashed at that and she pressed her pillow to her ears in attempt to drown him out. "Get the _hell_ out of my room, Felix! You're giving me a _freakin_' headache."

Apparently Felix needed to get his ears checked because he kept rattling on. Damn, she could still hear him through her pillow. She was out of ammunition, having just thrown her last empty bottle at him and she wasn't about to waste one of the full ones.

"You should consider yourself lucky that Zangief caught you this time," he was saying. He sounded like he was getting closer to the bed as he talked, which was a very bad idea. "Next time, you could Game Over."

"Do I look like I give a _shit_ if I live or die?" Rosie asked him bitterly. "My life ended ten years ago anyway, does it really matter what I do with the rest of it?"

She didn't hear him comment right away. Then he said, "Turbo wasn't the only thing in your life, you know."

That did it. Rage coursed through her veins and she grabbed her pillow from her head, sat up and clumsily threw it at Felix to shut him up, though she missed him by several feet. The angle that she was sitting when she chunked it made her accidentally knock some things off her little night stand, one item in particular crashing into pieces when it hit the hardwood floor.

Rosie glanced down at the noise and in that instant, her anger was replaced with both horror and despair. The framed picture she had of both her and Turbo had been what shattered on the floor, jagged pieces of glass missing in random spots over the photo and the frame bent in a few places. She was absolutely mortified that she had broken it and ignoring Felix's warning cry that she was going to cut herself, she toppled out of the bed awkwardly on her knees and grabbed the destroyed treasure.

Hot tears flooded out of her sad green eyes, bloodshot from all the drinking and with bags under them from lack of sleep, and she surveyed what damage she had done to the frame, her hands shaking as she flashed back to the day the picture was taken. They'd both been so happy...he'd been so _alive_.

Felix was wisely hanging back yet still inching closer as he saw the anger leaving her.

"Let me see it," he said gently, holding a hand out.

Rosie clutched it to her chest and glared up at him. "No, it's mine," she snapped childishly, turning herself slightly towards the bed so he couldn't try to take it from her. "You can't have it."

Felix resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing that she was still impaired and emotionally charged up. He stretched his arm out further, his hand still waiting.

"I'm going to give it back," he promised her in a soft voice. "Let me fix it for you so you won't cut yourself holding it."

She considered him for a second, just sitting there tangled up in her sheets with her legs bent under her and her hair messed up from rolling about in the bed, and very slowly she handed it to him. Felix got his hammer out and tapped it, making it good as new, and gave it directly back to her. Rosie looked at it, the glass now in one piece and the frame not bent up or scratched. Fresh tears came as she hugged it again.

"Why'd he have to leave me?" she asked, her voice coming out in a whine due to crying. "Didn't he know I'd miss him?"

Felix didn't respond, knowing she wasn't really looking for an answer. The only one who _did _know the answers was dead now.

"He was..._everything_ to me," Rosie continued, her tears cascading down her cheeks and onto the blankets she was still partially wrapped in. Her head was killing her from the hangover she was experiencing and she felt nauseated but she didn't care. She didn't care about _anything_ anymore.

Felix decided it was okay to speak now while she wasn't in an angry mood. "I know you miss him," he started, still talking in a gentle tone. "But you can't live the rest of your life this way, drinking like a fish and shutting yourself off from the world. It isn't healthy."

He took a breath before adding, "And I don't think he would like knowing that you let yourself fall apart like this either. I'm sure he would've wanted you to at least _try_ doing something productive with yourself besides...what you're doing now."

Rosie didn't say anything, just sat there and hugged her picture and propped the side of her throbbing head sideways against the mattress, not even looking at Felix. All she'd been doing since Turbo died had been drinking and moping about feeling sorry for herself, mourning his death. It didn't help that everyone had cast him in the light of villainy since his unspeakable actions ten years ago, actions that she'd rather not talk about. She knew she was talked about among the other characters, only natural as she had been his girlfriend of four years. Some people even said ugly things to her face, especially that ass from _A.P.B.,_ Officer Bob.

"You need to let other people in and help you," Felix continued, not even sure if she was listening to him.

"Other people," she scoffed bitterly, tilting her chin down and holding her picture away from her just enough for her to look down at it. "Why should I let people in? They all hate him. I'm not associating with people that have nothing better to do than drag his name in the dirt."

Felix thought that Turbo had dragged his _own_ name in the dirt but he didn't dare say that out loud. He had no idea what the racer had been thinking on that fateful day and though there were multiple theories, no one really knew the truth. Even Rosie didn't know what was running through his head that day as she hadn't even seen him.

"Not everyone thinks unkindly of him," he finally said.

Rosie cut him a glare from the side. "Do you?"

Felix opened his mouth then closed it. He wasn't sure _how_ he felt exactly. It wasn't like he was good friends with the racer to begin with, only chatting casually when they ran into each other. His silence seemed to be enough of an answer for her though, and she shut her eyes to him.

"Thought so."

The handyman sighed to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. He hated seeing someone that used to be so lively now being so...dead. Not _physically_ dead of course, but she might as well be the way she was acting these last few years. The drinking had gotten heavier as of late, thanks to the arrival of _Sugar Rush_.

Rosie had went into near hysterics when Litwak brought in the new racing game, his first one since the _RoadBlasters_ incident since he had somewhat thought that racing games were a jinx after that. But this game had high ratings and was very popular in other arcades, so he had taken a chance on it and brought it in. Everyone wouldn't shut up talking about it and it was driving the depressed cheerleader insane. All it did was remind of her of _TurboTime_, even though the format, design, programming, etc. were all completely different.

"Look, it doesn't matter what other people think," Felix was telling her as she wiped her tears from her face. "What _does_ matter is how you respond to it. You can't let everyone drag you down. You need to get up and start _living_, and shutting yourself off and drinking isn't _living_. You need to find something to preoccupy your thoughts, some kind of activity or a hobby or some kind of lifestyle change. But you can't just sit here feeling sorry for yourself living off the old days."

She didn't say anything, just sat there silently. Felix was almost positive that he was wasting his breath. Then he heard,

"You're right."

Rosie turned her head just enough to where she could view him out of the corners of her eyes.

"You're right. I'm only hurting myself. I'm not doing myself or anyone any good like this."

She sniffled and grabbed some tissues that were in the box that had fallen on the floor.

"I just want to be by myself right now, okay?" she requested quietly as she dabbed at her eyes and nose.

Felix smiled politely, still not knowing if anything he said made a difference or not. Rosie heard him shut the door when he left and she tilted her head back down to her picture. Damn it, she missed him so much! Even after all these years she could still feel the way he used to touch her, the way he kissed; she could still hear that contagious laugh of his, hear him whisper to her in the dark during their private moments.

_I love you, pretty girl..._he used to say.

Large tears fell and landed on the frame. "I love you too, champ," she whimpered out, pressing her lips against the smooth glass for a few seconds then pulling back and running her finger gently over it.

Her heart hurt again and she stood up on her knees and placed the picture back in its original location on the night stand. She glanced over at the small breakfast table she had in her room (she was staying at Chun-Li's house) and eyed the few bottles of now warm beer that she had left over. Weakly, she stood up properly using the bed for support and shuffled over there and grabbed a bottle, taking a good hard look at it. She then picked all of them up with her arms and slowly but surely made her way to her open window and looked down at the empty street below.

Then she chunked them all in one pitch, watching them shatter on the ground, the alcoholic contents draining into the gutter never to be drank by anyone.

She _had_ to get her life back. It would never be the same as it was, she knew that, but she had to do better than this. Turbo wouldn't have wanted her to live like this. He'd want her to try and be happy, even if he wasn't in the picture anymore. First thing was to quit drinking, which might be harder than she thought since she'd been at it so long. Second thing was to get away from here, away from all these people that only served to remind her that _he_ wasn't there.

She wasn't sure where she'd go yet, but she knew she was going. She had to get away from society for a while if she was ever going to have a chance at redeeming her sanity.

* * *

_**Present Day**_

Rosie wiped the tears away that had come when she relived that day. She didn't know what she was going to do about Turbo and _his_ demons, but she knew Vanellope was right. She was going to have to go into "tough love" mode and get more firm with this. She'd already lost him once and she'd be damned if it was going to happen again. Now she just needed a gameplan.


	13. Heart to Heart

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Thirteen**

The first thing Turbo noticed when he finally woke up was that he was in bed. The second thing was that his head was _killing_ him and his whole body in general was sore. What happened? The last thing he remembered was sitting on a bench in Game Central Station drinking vodka with Officer Bob and two of his buddies. After that...he had no idea.

He groaned when he tried to move, pain shooting down his neck from the base of his skull. Putting a hand to his head, he attempted to stabilize it as he rolled onto his back. He cracked his eyes open and his eyes focused on the familiar ceiling that belonged to his bedroom. How had he gotten home? And why did he hurt so much? It was almost like he'd been in a car accident.

"Oh good, you're awake," he heard Rosie say from his left and he twisted his head a little too hard to look at her, grimacing in pain as he cursed himself mentally for moving too much right away.

His throat felt dry and his tongue thick as he tried to say something, his hazy mind still trying to sort out what happened to him. He felt Rosie lift his head up with one of her hands and press a glass of water to his lips, which he accepted without argument. Some drops trickled out the side of the glass but he didn't care, it felt good going down his throat. She took the glass away when he was done and laid his head back down on the pillow.

"You...," he tried to choke out, his voice sounding embarrassingly raspy. "You came back."

She didn't say anything right then, but he felt her crawl on top of him to sit on his stomach so she could look down at him. Turbo cracked his eyes open to peek up at her and saw the frown she was wearing. He closed his eyes again, not wanting to see her like that.

"I'm sorry," he said after a spell when she didn't respond.

"Sorry for _what_?" Rosie asked, forcing him to be more specific. "Look at me when we're talking."

Turbo did as he was told, much as he didn't want to. Surprisingly, she wasn't glaring daggers at him. He had honestly expected her to be angry with him. More honestly, he hadn't expected her to even be here.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," he said quietly, his headache turning into a dull ache now that he was still.

"It really wasn't so much the yelling as what you _said_," she intervened, turning her head away to the side. "You said I made you feel worse."

Did he really say that? He couldn't really remember much of what he _had_ said so it was a possibility. Turbo slid his hand up to place on top of hers, which she had resting in front of her right below his chest.

"I didn't mean it."

"It doesn't matter if you meant it or not. It still hurt."

She turned her head back towards him and he could see the pain reflecting in her eyes.

"All I ever do is try to make things better for you, not because I think you need it, but because I love you. I _like _doing stuff for you. It hurts that you think I'm only doing it because I feel sorry for you, which I'll admit that I _do_ sometimes, but that's not the driving factor. It's part of my programming to cheer people up, and it makes me feel bad when you either don't appreciate it or think it isn't sincere."

In other words, he made her feel useless. Kinda like how _he'd _been feeling lately. Useless and unwanted. It was appalling to think that he'd made her feel that way without even knowing he was doing it. Turbo felt his heart sink when it hit him just how much his behavior had been affecting her.

"Sweetie, I never meant to hurt your feelings," he told her.

He started to rub her hand but she pulled it back to make him quit. She'd never done _that_ before. His heart sank lower and he curled his empty hand up on itself, wishing he could just disappear into the bed and never come out.

"Why did you think I left you earlier?" she wanted to know, being serious. "Didn't it cross your mind that I just simply went out for a while?"

"Well...I..." Turbo tried to think of an answer. They all sounded ridiculous. "You weren't..._here_...and...I..."

"You automatically thought I'd just up and leave you because you threw a tantrum," she finished for him, aggravation evident in her voice. "I'll admit I got upset, but I wouldn't do something so silly as just _leave_ you over it. My God, I forgave you for _murder_, didn't I?"

He looked sheepish. Yes, she had.

"It's insulting that you think I'd be so childish or think so little of our marriage that I'd even think such a thing," she had to admit. "And then to top it off, the first thing you do is go get _drunk?_ _Again, _I might add?"

Turbo gulped and began to mindlessly scratch at the bedsheets with his fingers to give them something to do. When said out loud, the things he'd done _did_ sound insanely stupid.

"Where...where _did_ you go?" he asked out of curiosity.

"To my family's," she replied bluntly.

_Right,_ the ninja turtles. He hadn't even considered them when he was freaking out over her not being around. Though, admittedly he still couldn't wrap his head around the idea that she considered them _family_. It was so bizarre to think about.

_Crap, I hope that one that wears red doesn't come kill me_, he thought suddenly, remembering the threat he had been given on their wedding day that if Turbo so much as made Rosie cry, then he would personally come after the racer (it was Raphael but Turbo didn't know their names yet).

"Where'd you get the booze from?" Rosie asked, changing the subject. She suspected Officer Bob gave it to him, but she wanted to make sure.

Her eyes lowered into a glare when he verbally confirmed her suspicions. She wished she knew where that jerk was so she could go slap him right in the face.

"I don't want you associating with him, or his friends, anymore. No questions, just don't do it."

Turbo sighed and rested his eyes. "Okay," he agreed simply, not wanting to discuss this anymore.

"And what were you thinking getting behind the wheel while drunk?"

His eyes popped back open in surprise at that. "Wait, I _drove_?"

"I take it you don't remember."

"No!" he exclaimed loudly, then groaned and grabbed his head when his head throbbed in reaction to his outburst.

"To answer your question, _yes_. You drove," Rosie informed him as he tried to rub away his headache. "According to Felix, you were in Candy Goodbody's car and you crashed it into one of _Sugar Rush_'s giant gumdrop things."

This new surge of information was making him dizzy and he kept both hands over his eyes to try to ease his symptoms. He had gotten into a hooker's car while drunk. That alone was bad enough, never mind that he _drove_. He couldn't believe that, he'd never dared attempted to drive while intoxicated before.

As if she could read his mind, Rosie commented, "Don't worry, I don't think you slept with her."

Thank God. Not that he did, but damn that would've been a real mess if she'd thought that. Okay, so he had somehow gotten into the car drunk and ended up in..._Sugar Rush_. How did...

"How did I get to _Sugar Rush_?" he asked out loud.

Rosie shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't there. I don't think you drove there. Personally, I think Bob drove you there, or maybe Candy did, and they thought it would be funny to watch you kill yourself in an accident."

Ouch. The idea that Bob had only been pretending to be his friend really stung. He felt like a complete idiot.

"So anyway," Rosie kept on filling in the details, "After you crashed, some of the little kids found you and told Vanellope, then she had Felix come over and help fix the track up and drag you back here. I didn't know about it until I got home, of course, which was about an hour before the arcade opened."

Oh great, so Fix-It and the glitchy princess both saw him when he was boozed out and in a _crashed_ car. That's just perfect, just turbo-freakin-tastic. He would never be able to look at them straight ever again. Not that he ever _wanted_ to look at Vanellope, _ever_, but still.

"You don't remember _anything_?" Rosie asked him, almost sounding disappointed that he didn't.

Turbo thought in silence for a good minute. At first, he was going to say "no". Then something from the cobwebs of his hungover mind worked its way to his conscious being. He slid his hands off his eyes and barely opened them.

"I...I remember thinking...I was..." He sounded depressed as he said it. "I thought I was back home...at _TurboTime_."

Rosie stared at him with an expression that he could not read. Then she shut her eyes and sighed deeply, sitting still for a moment. Turbo wanted to ask what was wrong but he opted to keep his mouth shut. She finally opened her eyes again and they were shiny with tears that had not yet fully formed.

"That's all you ever think about, isn't it?" she asked him almost bitterly. "That's the only thing that's gonna make you happy, huh?"

He was taken aback at her attitude. "Honey, that was my _home_..."

"Exactly! It _was_ your home!" She wasn't fussing at him, she was trying to drive the point across. "It's not there anymore, champ, it's _gone_. You need to accept that it's _gone."_

She almost sounded like she was pleading with him. "I know you miss it and I'm not saying that it's wrong to, but if you can't obsess over it like this. Now you're hallucinating it! That's not healthy!"

Turbo was stunned at her outburst, staring up at her not knowing how to respond. Rosie had tears coming out of her eyes as she looked down at him from her position on his stomach.

"Do you love me?" she asked him unexpectedly.

His jaw dropped, surprised that she needed to ask that.

"Of _course_ I do!" he insisted, trying to ignore the throb in his head that had evolved from him talking loudly. "What kind of question is _that_?"

"If you had a choice of staying here with me, the way things are now, or going back to _TurboTime..._ which one would you pick?"

He opened his mouth to answer but no sound came out. He _hesistated_ to answer. Tears slid down Rosie's face, her mixed expression of anger, disappointment, and sorrow quite evident.

"Don't bother, I already know," she bit as she climbed off of him sideways and made her way off the bed entirely.

Alarmed, Turbo jerked up then grabbed his head with one hand as his headache intensified ten-fold, forcing his legs to work through the pain.

"Rosie, wait!"

Rosie had the door already swung open and halfway out of it by the time he fell on the floor, groaning as he cursed himself to crawl after her. Through some form of miracle, he managed to catch up enough to grab at one of her ankles and get her to stop in the hallway right before getting to the kitchen.

"Rosie, _please!_" he begged tearfully as he lay on his stomach, pulling himself forward using her ankle as an anchor. "Please don't go, I love you, don't leave me, _please!_"

He hugged his arms around her trapped leg as he kept saying "I love you" over and over, tears pouring out of his eyes like an open faucet.

"Let go of my leg."

If he let go, she was going to leave. No way in hell was he letting that happen so he kept his arms wrapped firmly around her, sobbing quietly at the floor, his breathing but harsh gasps of air.

"Champ, seriously, let go," she said calmly. "I'm not gonna go anywhere."

Turbo wasn't sure if he believed her or not, but he reasoned he couldn't very well stay in this position for the rest of their lives so he did as he was told and just laid there pitifully on the floor with a pool of tears under his face. Rosie turned and sat cross-legged in front of him, reaching a hand out to gently tousle his hair. Turbo crossed his arms in front of his face so she wouldn't see him crying anymore.

"Baby, I know you love me," Rosie started after he'd calmed down some, speaking in a soothing tone. However, she had to admit that it hurt that he'd _hesistated _when she had asked him to choose between her and the possibility of going back to _TurboTime_. She had expected him to automatically pick her, of course...that's what _she_ would have done. Thus, she began to have a little doubt at just _how much_ he actually loved her. It was silly perhaps, but it still weighed on her mind.

"But I think you're confused right now with everything that's going on," she continued, trying to ignore the idea that he perhaps didn't love her as much as he thought he did. "You're too preoccupied with either how things _used_ to be or how people view you _now_. You don't even like yourself, do you?"

He kept his face hidden and his eyes closed, thinking about what she just said as more tears ran down his face. No, he didn't like himself. What was there to like? He was a murderer, a selfish bastard, and no one wanted to be ten feet near him.

Turbo shook his head in the negative to answer her question, pulling his arms closer to his face to cover it better. Ghost Teddy was right, he _was_ a pathetic loser. He used to be something special and now here he was crying on the floor trying to keep his wife from leaving him and just feeling sorry for himself.

He felt Rosie stop petting his head and inch her hand down to try to touch his face and he shifted his head a little so she could press it against his cheek, then rested his head against it so her hand was pinned between his head and his shoulder. Her hands were always so soft and delicate, so warm and loving.

"I love you, sweetheart," Rosie told him quietly after another moment of silence. "But I miss you being yourself. I miss my cocky little daredevil that's always looking for the next big thrill. The guy that could light up any room he went in."

"That's not me anymore," he mourned in a whisper.

"Yes, it is. You just got lost." She pulled her hand back and took a breath before she added, "That's why I think you need to go away for a little while."

Turbo popped his eyes open in shock and he lifted his head up to her, surprise written all over his face. One look at _her_ face told him that she wasn't joking around.

"You're...you're throwing me out?" he asked quietly, feeling another cry coming on.

"No, I'm not throwing you out," Rosie clarified, cupping the bottom of his chin in hand so he wouldn't drop his head down. "I just think you need a change in scenery. A vacation or something. You know, like a get-away retreat."

She wasn't sounding very convincing, almost like she wasn't sure this was a good idea that she had. The _last_ idea she'd had was sending him to Bad-Anon, so he wasn't positive that he was going to like this_ new_ idea.

"You're not coming with me?"

"I'll come visit," she offered with a little smile. She started using her free hand to clear off any remnant tears on his face. "You need to straighten up, champ. You can't do that if I'm around you twenty-four-seven."

Turbo didn't like the thought of being away from her; he'd already spent a twenty-five year chunk of his life away from her and he didn't want to add to that. But then again, he didn't want to become one of those annoying clingy guys that can't even breathe without assistance from their significant other, so he supposed it was only realistic that he would _have_ to stay away from her at some point.

Not that he approved.

"Where am I supposed to go?"

He almost dreaded the answer.

Rosie smiled bigger and matter-of-factly said, "_Sugar Rush_."

He _did_ dread the answer. Turbo sat up on his elbows and looked at her like she was crazy.

"Are you in_sane_!" he questioned as he struggled to sit up on the floor, completely ignoring any aches and pains he felt as he propped himself up in front of her. "I can't go back there!"

"Why not?"

"I _hate_ that place!"

"You didn't seem to mind spending fifteen years ruling over it, _King-y_," she pointed out with a slight smirk. "Good grief, you lived there longer than you did at _TurboTime_. If you think about it,_ Sugar Rush_ should really be more of a home to you."

He opened his mouth to argue with her but she held her hand up to stop him from saying anything.

"Don't argue with me," she commanded him. She had this twinkle in her eyes that he wasn't sure he trusted. "Vanellope already said it was okay for you to go."

"You had this planned the whole time I was asleep, didn't you?" he quickly deduced in an accusing tone.

"Well, what did you want me to do?" she asked him, briefly throwing her arms up in slight exasperation. "I turn around and leave for five seconds and you get drunk..._again.._.and nearly kill yourself. I try to make you feel better and you get pissy and throw the kitchen table across the floor."

Turbo winced at the reminder and he leaned over to see if the kitchen had been fixed while he'd been unconscious. The table was now upright at least and there wasn't a mess of destroyed cookies on the floor; he assumed they were in the garbage. His stomach churned at the thought of food and realized he hadn't had a decent meal in quite some time.

"I didn't know what else to do with you," Rosie continued, her eyes casting sadness towards him. "I can't keep an eye on you all the time and you can't stay cooped up in the house avoiding life. I got desperate, so when Vanellope offered to help and I accepted it for you since I knew you wouldn't."

What could that little cookie crumb possibly do for him? Granted, Turbo had meant it when he apologized to her for usurping her royalty, but that didn't mean he wanted anything to do with her _or_ her sugar-coated world. To be honest, he was baffled that she would allow him back in the game, even if he didn't pose any threat now. He couldn't take over it again even if he wanted to without the Universal Code at his disposal.

Rosie reached her hand out to grab a hold of his and squeeze it. "Champ, you gotta trust me on this. The first ten years I had without you...I drank a lot. Probably more than you did today. But I had someone give me a wake-up call and make me think that I needed to pull myself together. The only way I could do that was just get away from everybody for a while and get cleaned up, and I think it'll work for you. Now I'm not saying you have to stay gone for _years_ like I did; you can come back home in..."

She scrunched her face up to think. "Two weeks."

Turbo's eyes nearly bugged out. "_Two weeks?!"_

"It's not as long as you think it is."

"That's a pretty damn long time to make me go live with a bunch of snot-nosed brats," he grumbled, turning his head to the side to glare at a random spot on the floor.

"Well, maybe by the time two weeks is over, you won't dislike kids so much," Rosie quipped back.

_And maybe you won't take me for granted so much either, _she added silently.

"They won't bully you, I've already made sure of that."

Turbo flicked his eyes back to her. If she had personally made sure of it, maybe the little rugrats wouldn't pester him so much. _Maybe._

"I don't have a choice in this..._do_ I?"

"Oh, you have a choice, but it'd be wise to go along with it," she suggested smartly.

_In other words, if you don't go, that means you have no desire to even attempt at getting your life back on track_, Turbo translated for her in his head. _And she would take that to mean that I don't care enough about HER to even bother taking care of myself._

He sighed in defeat and ran a thumb over her hand in a caressing motion.

"All right, I'll go," he agreed semi-reluctantly.

Rosie beamed and she leaned in to give him a little kiss, but then she made a face and backed away.

"I love ya, but...you smell like straight vodka," she told him, not even bothering to sugar-coat it. She took her hand from him and patted him on the knee. "Might want to go freshen up a bit, hmm?"

* * *

While Turbo made himself more aromatically tolerable, Rosie slipped out the front door for a minute. Vanellope was out on the front lawn throwing some pop rock candies in the air and trying to catch them in her mouth. When she heard the front door open, she turned her head in distraction and the candies that were in the air ended up landing in her hair, not that she noticed.

"Well, what did he say, what did he say?" she asked excitedly as she bounced up to her cheerleader friend.

"He said okay but..."

"But _what?"_ Vanellope wanted to know, shrugging animatedly with her palms up.

Rosie bit her lip and looked off to the side briefly. "I mean, he _is_ going to be all right, isn't he? I think he's expecting all of you to gang up on him or something."

The candy-themed racer rolled her eyes around in a wide circle and held her palm up as if taking an oath. "I swear on my official royal title that he will be treated no different than anyone else in our game."

She then smirked slyly and shoved both hands in her hoodie pouch. "Of course, we _do_ like to rag on each other a good bit, so unless you call _that_ bullying, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Rosie still appeared nervous and tilted her head up towards her bedroom balcony. "I hope he doesn't get temperamental."

"I think we can handle him," Vanellope dismissed her concerns. "We outnumber him and he can't exactly do anything to us since, for starters, that would just ruin his precious reputation more and also I doubt he'd want to upset _you_."

The little girl made a valid point. Turbo wouldn't dare do anything to risk disappointing her more, since he seemed to feel remorseful enough about his earlier actions.

"Don't worry, this'll work," Vanellope reassured her. "We're gonna work him so hard, he won't have time to even _think _about drinking. And he might even get an attitude adjustment with it, so it'll work out for you too."


	14. Welcome (Back) to Sugar Rush, Pt 1

I_ know everyone has their theory on how Turbo got into _Sugar Rush_ and how he became King Candy and all that...well, here is mine. It continues into the next chapter as well. It's probably not as creative as what other people have come up with, but I always figured he took over in a simple non-grand fashion._

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**_Sugar Rush - 1997_**

_Kids...this game has kids in it._

Turbo was beyond pissed. All these years of waiting for Litwak to install another racing game, and he had to go and pick one that had _kid_ avatars in it? It was almost enough to drive him more insane than he already was.

For the last ten years, the disgraced ex-racing star had been scrounging off the bugs and worms that infested the _Anteater _game, using the fact that no one ever visited that world or that the Anteater himself never left the game to his advantage. He was able to hide there undetected ever since _TurboTime_ was unplugged and spent the majority of his time practicing altering bits of code, using the Universal Code given to him by that bastard twin Teddy. Years of planning and figuring out exactly what he could do to the codes were all he had to do with his life, and all those years had made him angrier and bitter about how his life had spiraled into a pit of nothingness.

When he first went into exile, Turbo had thought that it would only take a few months for Litwak to bring in a new racing game to fill in the void. Months flew by and before he knew it, a whole year had passed. One year turned into two, two turned into three, and so forth. Time meant nothing anymore, the days merged together. Sometimes a week felt like a single day...sometimes a day felt like a month.

If he wasn't preoccupying himself with being inside the codes and fooling with them, Turbo's mind would dwell into the darkest part of itself. Nightmares plagued him if he so much as let a hint of a memory of his past life get past his guard. He woke up screaming sometimes, tearing the grass beneath him in a fit of both rage and sorrow. It crossed his mind on many occasions to kill himself, but he would think to himself that he had lasted _this_ long and that unless he wanted it to all be in vain, he better keep himself alive.

While the arcade was open, he had to keep hidden from the gamers so he made do with sleeping during that time. Before and after opening hours though, he would make himself keep his ears peeled for any talk from Litwak about any new games coming in. None of them were for racing.

Eventually, ten years went by. By then, Turbo had almost forgotten what it was like to have a normal life with regular people around him. He could remember of course but it hurt him to do so. The _Anteater_ game was located at the very end of Game Central Station; the portal across from it was empty for a long time so there was no foot traffic in that area. Sometimes, when he felt more lonely than usual, he would dare to go just a few yards away from the game's opening and look out at the Station, hoping to see at least one person go by, something to give him a semblance of reality. Anything to remind himself that he was still alive and not some ghost wandering about. Not many people came that way though so he was more often than not disappointed. It was still nice to see the ol' Station every now and then though.

Finally, one day he heard the words he'd been waiting to hear. Litwak was talking on the phone after he'd closed the arcade about a new game he'd just purchased that was due to arrive the next day. It was called _Sugar Rush_...a racing game. Turbo thought the title was odd but he didn't care so long as it had racing in it. When the game finally arrived, he could hardly contain his enthusiasm. But first, he had to get out of the _Anteater_ game without people noticing him.

That proved to be easier than he thought. He made a skin out of some of the insects in the game to wear for himself as a disguise and latched himself to the side of the wooly Anteater then managed to make him uncharacteristically leave his game. The animal could not speak and how much he understand any spoken language was debatable, but the plan worked. The giant mammal traversed along the perimeter of the Station while his "bug" companion held onto his thick fur until finally passing by the _Sugar Rush _portal.

The racer had wasted no time hopping off the Anteater and dashing himself into the tunnel, ripping off his homemade costume when he felt he was far enough away from any prying eyes. This particular tunnel did not have a train system to transport visitors so it took him a while to finally reach the end of it. When he got there, he could hardly believe his eyes. The graphics in this game were unlike anything he had ever seen before, even surpassing the ones that belonged to _RoadBlasters, _which had been the last new game he'd been to. The colors were bright and cheerful and the general mood of the place screamed happiness.

Turbo took a deep breath of fresh air...and gagged. The smell was sickeningly sweet and it was quite the contrast from the dirt-and-grass smell he had grown accustomed to in _Anteater_. He looked up at the sky and noticed the clouds were...cotton candy? Apparently, the reason this game had the word "sugar" in it was because it was candy-themed. He traveled down the Rainbow Road that led to the rest of the world, being on the look out for any of the game's citizens. Upon reaching the end of the road, he bent down to the dirt and scooped some up in his hand, sniffing it cautiously. It smelled like...crushed graham crackers?

He felt stupid eating dirt but curiosity got the best of him and he shoveled it into his mouth. The sweetness overload in his mouth initially made him nauseous, since his diet for the last ten years had consisted of simply bugs, worms, some grass and water. He threw up a little to the side from the foreign substance but it was substantially better than what he had _been_ eating, so he forced himself to eat some more just to get used to it.

He wiped his hands of the crumbs left behind and he decided to take a stroll to familiarize himself with this new territory. _Everything_ was edible, he found quickly enough. He ended up in a Candy Cane Forest and he snatched a small twig off one of the lower branches and sucked on it for a spell. If he was going to live here, he better get used to sweets _fast_. He began to walk along a giant branch, one that was almost big enough to drive on. At first he thought he was seeing things when he saw it begin to glitch but he jumped out of the way right before it disappeared completely.

He scratched his head in confusion. The branches disappeared on contact? In an investigative mood, he touched some of the smaller branches above him. Nothing happened. Finally, his eyes landed on one that was slightly different than the others. It was double-striped. He grabbed a hold of that one and it blipped away in his very hand.

Ah, clever. Turbo had no idea why something like this would be in a racing game, but he had to commend the developers for coming up with some interesting environmental visuals on the side. Perhaps this was part of a mini-game? He had heard some talk from the gamers outside the _Anteater_ screen about new games having mini-games in them, so maybe it was part of that?

He looked down at where the large branch had disappeared and he had to strain his eyes to read the small sign that read "Nesquik Sand". He didn't know what Nesquik was, but it appeared to be some form of chocolate powder. He shrugged and carried on with his self-guided tour.

He eventually wandered into a sticky chocolate bog, the sign of which read Molasses Swamp on it. His legs were getting sucked into the chocolate mud and, simply being curious, he grabbed some to try it out. Delicious! He absolutely adored chocolate, he used to grab milkshakes over at _BurgerTime_ all the time when he and Rosie went out-

_DON'T THINK ABOUT HER._

_She might would've liked it here...  
_

_DAMN IT, STOP THAT.  
_

He decided to bypass Molasses Swamp for the time being. He then ended up on what appeared to be fields of lollipop grass...if _that_ made any sense. He plucked a cherry one and started sucking on that. He hoped he didn't get a sick stomach again from filling it up with so much junk.

Suddenly, the familiar sound of engines filled the air. Ah, _that's_ what he wanted! To take a look at the cars and the track...or _tracks_, plural. He was almost positive in a world this large, there was more than one track to race on. He followed the sound and he hid behind a large jawbreaker that was halfway buried in the ground and he peeked around it. Below, he saw a winding track made of what looked to be taffy and a large group of karts were speeding down it. There were too many to count at the time but there were quite a lot. They all zoomed past where Turbo was hiding and he cautiously decided to go in the direction that they were headed.

At last, he reached where the finish line would be and he saw boxes of confectionery people cheering from candy boxes for their favorite racer. Turbo thought that was rather interesting, NPC's made up of candy, and he found himself actually smiling at the sound of the cheering, even if they were not for him...yet. He got close enough to see what the racers looked like and...

They were _kids. _Every single one of them were little kids, no more than the age of ten, he garnered. He felt his blood boil immediately. He hated kids, _hated_ them. The idea that he had to share this new world with them was too much for him to handle at the time and he quickly turned away, clenching his fists at his sides and shaking with fury.

What cruel joke were the arcade gods playing on him? He had waited ten years for that old fool Litwak to bring in a new racing game and it had _children_ as the racers? He forced himself to turn back around and he noticed that the children had circled around one particular child. Her kart was white with a crown-like shape in the back, looking slightly fancier than the others. She had raven hair with little candies stuck in it and she wore a tiny tiara.

A princess. This place had a _princess?_ Was this some kind of royal monarchy? Was there a king and queen as well? Turbo did not know but he certainly intended to find out. If he was going to usurp this game as his own, he would need to know all the details, know what he was getting himself into. He watched as all the kids looked up at a giant screen and the winners of the race were highlighted, their names called out by a big booming automated voice. It seemed that out of all the racers, only nine would go on to be part of the next day's roster of avatars to be picked by gamers. Turbo had never seen a system like this before, but he understood that this must be how the avatars took turns getting to be part of the next day's game. They all had to race and the first nine to cross the finish line were to be available to the gamers.

Clever, very clever.

The little princess girl grew excited upon hearing her name called out and bounced around excitedly. _Vanellope von Schweetz._ That was the weirdest name Turbo had ever heard in his life. Actually, _all_ the kids' names were goofy sounding. The only one that sounded normal was the one simply called Candlehead, which just sounded dumb if you asked him.

Turbo'd had enough of watching the racers and decided to go off exploring the rest of the world. Licorice Fields, Candy Corn Fields (where he had the misfortune to run into an angry fire-breathing uni-candy-corn that, because of some kind of glitch, was unable to leave the premises), a lemonade fountain, an ice cream mountain range, a volcanic structure called Diet Cola Mountain, a Gumball Alley, a stretch of racing track made entirely of cake, and other such strange destinations made up his travels over the course of the next two days. He took special care to not get seen by any of the citizens of the game.

The Code Room was what he was looking for. Where could it be? He found a few houses belonging to some of the avatars but they did not possess any locked rooms that he could enter.

Finally at the end of the second day, after climbing up a large hill next to the Licorice Fields, his eyes fell on the castle located in the center of the game. He slapped his forehead in frustration. Of course! It only made sense for the lifeblood of the game to be located in the royal domain. He should have thought of that the second he found out a princess lived here.

_Idiot! You wasted precious time!_

The arcade was open and the castle grounds were empty, like a ghost town. Turbo couldn't believe that there were no guards present even if the princess was not currently residing within the castle. The security here was extremely lax, which would be to his benefit later on. The doors weren't even locked! What kind of place was this kid running here? Ifhe...correction..._when_ he was ruler of this place, he would have guards around the clock watching this place.

The long hallway leading to the throne room was pink...

_Rosie used to wear pink...NO, DON'T THINK ABOUT HER._

The long hallway leading to the throne room was _salmon_. Fitting, as it served as the home to a little girl. There was good deal of white to balance it out and not seem so girly though, so it would be tolerable to live with later. Now, where would that Code Room be hidden...

He remembered that the one over in_ TurboTime_ was hidden behind a giant curtain that was in the car garage. He and the twins had found it during their first month of being plugged in but none of them had a clue what it was for at the time. The one at _Anteater_ was hidden behind a waterfall, so it made sense for the one in _Sugar Rush_ to be hidden in a similar fashion. Conveniently enough, the throne had a giant curtain behind it so that was the first place he checked.

Eureka! A long silver hallway greeted him after a few moments of wandering behind there and it wasn't too long that he saw the familiar locking mechanism that apparently all games possessed. Hands shaking, he took out his trusty _Tapper's_ napkin with the Universal Code scribbled on it and tapped in the coordinates.

_Swish!_

Turbo's jaw dropped when he saw the all the boxes and groups of codes that made up the game. There was...quite a lot. Much more than that _Anteater_ game had had for him to play with. He was positive he could figure it out though, after all he had ten years of code hacking experience behind him, even if it _had _been limited materials he'd been working with.

First thing he needed was a support line of some form, so while the castle was empty he went on a search. He actually managed to find a long piece of rope to tether to him to the side rail while he went floating inside cyberspace. He reckoned that as long as the arcade stayed open, the castle would be empty, but he didn't want to assume wrong and then get caught in here. That would be bad.

He floated about for a while and relief began to wash over him when he realized that the system wasn't as complicated as it looked. There was just _a lot_. He found each racer's personal codes which included their stats, the Random Race Roster system, codes for the karts (he was going to have get used to that word: _kart_), and even a cute mini-game that allowed the gamer to create their own kart if they did not want to use their chosen avatar's personal one.

Stats...each racer had different speeds, balance, etc. It made them all unique. Since that jerk Teddy had altered Turbo's code to make him slow down, he reckoned he would need to "borrow" some of the faster ones speed skills in order to make himself the fastest. If he'd had his original formatting within him, he was sure he could out-drive all these little kids.

Turbo then wondered how he would change his appearance to fit in with this game...it wasn't long before he had his answer. Off to the side, he found what appeared to be yet another mini-game, yet this one wasn't part of the finished game. The programmers must have made it and then decided at the last minute to cut it from the game. This one was an Avatar Creator. It was like the Go-Kart Bakery game, only the gamer could create their own avatar as well if they did not want to use one of the ones already available. Apparently, the programmers thought that if they let this game be available, then no one would use the pre-made avatars, so they cut it.

This was perfect! Turbo-tastic! It would solve his problem of fitting in with the other racers once he took over. He scratched his chin as he thought about how he should look. Looking like a child was out of the question...besides he stood at least two heads taller than them from what he could tell from a distance so that would look odd anyway. No, he needed to keep his adult status.

_A king._

He needed to look like a king. There wasn't one (or a queen) when he'd searched through the characters earlier. He smiled at the thought of being treated like royalty after all these years. He thought about what he should look like. Handsome and dashing? Not that he didn't think of himself that way already, but he could make himself look _more so._

_No no no no no._

That was out of the question as well. He shook his head as the idea of women flocking to him ran through his mind. He wasn't about to deal with that, he _couldn't_ deal with that. It wouldn't be right anyway, it'd be like he was..._cheating_ somehow. In some weird way, it would be like he was cheating on _her_ even though that would be impossible since she was...

_Damn it, stop thinking about her! _

Right, so he was going to age himself. Hopefully that would be possible. Women didn't (usually) go for old men so that would be perfect at keeping them at bay. Maybe no one would bother him at all, he didn't want anyone getting too close anyway, especially if he was going to be living a lie. He might accidentally let something slip out and his true identity would be revealed.

Turbo decided he had spent enough time in the Code Room and pulled himself back out, letting the door _swish_ close behind him. He didn't want to chance anyone walking in on him, even though he was fairly sure that the castle was still empty.

He needed to think, needed to plan accordingly. He hid out near Diet Cola Mountain since no one seemed to go near there. Okay, so he far he knew he was going to become the king, since obviously this game didn't have any other ruler besides that princess... so all he had to do was butt her out somehow. He highly doubted she would accept him or buy some lame story that he had been in the game this whole time but just now decided to show up.

No, he was going to have to kill her, he was pretty sure of that. He already had experience locking up memories, having done it to the Anteater at times, so he could easily erase anyone's knowledge of there being a princess running around. It would be like she never existed.

He grinned widely to himself, relishing in the thought that he would soon have power and glory again...have a feeling of belonging somewhere, doing what he was supposed to be doing...racing. It would be like stealing candy from a baby.

* * *

_**Present ****Day**_

Turbo felt a wave of nostalgia hit him when he approached the castle, both Wynchell and Duncan flanking him. They had escorted him the entire way there since he stepped onto the Rainbow Road. Rosie had, much to his dismay, stayed behind, saying that this was something he had to do by himself. At least she was nice enough to pack him a duffel bag. The two pastry cops had been giving him suspicious looks, as if they couldn't figure him out. Granted, they were probably confused by seeing him in his original form. They had, after all, only ever seen him as "King Candy".

If they had ever liked their king in the slightest, it certainly didn't show now. They didn't even speak to him the entire journey to the castle. The Oreo guards were performing their usual chant as they pranced about in formation in front of the entry doors and they slowly parted and allowed the trio access. The doors creaked open and they entered the building, the doors closing again behind them. They walked down the long hall to the throne room where Sour Bill showed up, his usual dour expression plastered to his face. He looked up at Turbo through his always half-lowered eyes.

Turbo had never had anything against the little green guy, having been another adult to talk to during his reign. Besides, he followed instructions and didn't ask questions. He had been rather easy to sucker into talking him into doing his "king's" bidding.

"Sour Bill," the racer greeted simply with a short nod of his head.

The rotund candy-being widened his eyes in a rare moment of shock. "You...you said my name right."

Turbo stared at him in confusion.

"You...uh...I mean, you don't..." he seemed to be fumbling with how to say it. "You don't have...a _lisp_."

Oh, _that._

Turbo blew his breath out and rubbed the back of his neck. "No, I don't. I only had one because the avatar I was using...King Candy...well...the teeth were much shorter than my regular ones so I ended up talking funny...you _all_ have smaller sets of teeth here..."

Sour Bill processed that for a minute then simply said, "Oh."

Vanellope saved him from having to deal with the Sour Bill and the cops anymore. He never thought he'd actually be _glad_ to see her, but putting up with her would be better than this awkwardness.

"Welcome back to the castle, Turd-o!" Vanellope greeted him with a skip in her step. She waved at the other three characters. "Okay, you're all free to go now."

"Are you _ever_ going to quit calling me that?" Turbo asked her grumpily as the others left them alone in the throne room.

He saw that it had been redesigned slightly, since her actual kart was the one that _he_ had used and it had been destroyed by that Cy-Bug. There was what appeared to be a giant marshmallow-shaped throne in the other one's place. He personally liked the first one better, seeing as how the kart had doubled as the throne. He always liked backing it up into the throne spot.

"Nope," she answered as she stood there twirling one of her fingers around her hoodie string and using her other hand to hold a lollipop she was steadily working on.

He rolled his eyes. "All right, what torture do you have planned for me?"

Vanellope laughed and ran to her throne to bounce on it a few times before plopping down. "You're so paranoid!"

"_Cautious_ is a more appropriate word to describe it."

She crossed her eyes at him and stuck her tongue out. "Relax, dodo-brain, no one's gonna torture you. However, you do have to do what we say while you're here, so that means behaving."

He was getting parented by a group of children. _Classic_. Rosie had better appreciate what he was going through here.

"And before you ask, there's no way you're staying here in _my_ castle."

Turbo did not fail to hear that she put emphasis on "MY castle". Not that he could blame her. It still hurt though that he still wasn't trusted to be around the palace.

"Hey, I meant it when I apologized," he informed her, an almost hurt look in his eyes.

"I know, but...it'd still be kinda weird having you hanging around," Vanellope related to him. "Know what I mean, jellybean?"

He stuck his hands in his pockets, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Sure."

"Now, before I allow you further entrance into _Sugar Rush_, you have to answer me one question."

He was a little frightened upon hearing that. What could she possibly want to ask him? It could be anything. Anything at all.

"Fire away," he told her, trying to act nonchalant about it.

Vanellope got a very solemn look on her face, which was unnatural for her. "Why didn't you kill me when you first came here?"


	15. Welcome (Back) to Sugar Rush, Pt 2

_Granny Panties: Well, I don't have to worry about snow too much where I'm at, so that's not a problem for me! And this is actually the THIRD story, the first one was a shorter fic called "_Going Turbo_" about what happened when _RoadBlasters_ got plugged in and how Turbo got the Konami Code. Also, I agree Vanellope's a better person too and more understanding, but I'm also trying to convey that Turbo himself is not a bad person, he just made some very bad choices and doesn't know how or if he can go back to the way he was. Thanks for reading! :) (I cracked up at your username btw, lol, awesome!)  
_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Fifteen**

The question blew him away, definitely _not _expecting to hear that come out of her mouth. Turbo stared at her in a form of shock, blinking a few times in disbelief. Surely she was joking! There's no way she could be seriously wanting him to answer that. He waited a beat for her to laugh and say that she was just kidding.

She didn't.

Turbo felt sweat drip from his brow, feeling hot at the idea of having to answer this. It was more than awkward to say the least. He reached a hand up and wiped his head with the back of it. Vanellope kicked her legs to and fro impatiently as she sat slumped down in her throne.

"You know, instead of making me a glitch," she elaborated further, thinking he hadn't fully understood her. "Why didn't you just kill me? Wouldn't that have been easier than worrying about whether or not I would eventually cross the finish line in a race? Or heck, easier than you having to come up with that payment plan for the Random Roster Race to ensure I could never enter?"

Turbo stood silent for another moment, the memories of that day rushing into him like a freight train. Just when Vanellope thought that maybe she'd shocked him into a coma of some sort and was starting to regret asking the question, he finally replied,

"I couldn't."

* * *

_**Sugar Rush - 1997**_

He had done it! Victory was his!

Turbo had been able to sneak into the castle every day that week while it was unoccupied during the arcade's opening hours. It had been so easy. He had gathered all memories of the citizens and racers together to have them forget about Princess Vanellope and put them all in a designated area of the Code Room, even forming a locked chest to toss around them to guarantee they would never be released...unless by chance the game went through a "reset" but he had no reason to believe_ that_ would ever happen.

He had also used the abandoned Avatar Creator mini-game to create his new alter ego...he opted for the simple name of King Candy since, for one, it was the only thing he could think of that would be appropriate; and two, at least it was able to be pronounced easily unlike those other little freak racers with the five-plus-syllable names. What formed was a type of skin that he could absorb into, a rather strange almost supernatural process, and his transformation was complete.

He even had his very own crown! He looked nothing like his old self, which had been the point. Nope, he was just some kindly old grandpa-figure in charge of running a game full of happy cheery folks. Everyone would love him, he'd be the star of the show...just like before.

Now to get rid of the princess herself. Turbo had waited for her to come home from the races and the stupid child had been foolish enough to send her guards away while she went to her bedroom. It had been so easy to knock her out...she never even saw him coming. Just one hit to the back of the head and the little princess was unconscious.

In order to kill her, he had to get her out of the game or else she'd regenerate. He very well couldn't drag her to Game Central Station, he knew that, but he reasoned the electrical cord tunnel would suffice. That's what he had done to the twins after all. After killing them, he'd been scared that they would regenerate so he had dragged their corpses into the tunnel just outside the game's actual entrance and left them there. Yes, he could drag the child there and snap her neck and she would be dead to the world.

And once he returned to the palace, he could lock away the memories of her forever.

Since the inept guards were nowhere to be found, it was easy for Turbo to drag her back into her parked kart, that he would later use as his own, and drive her..._God, it felt so good to be driving again!..._undetected down a back way to the Rainbow Road.

Almost there, he was so close he could _taste_ it! The princess was a little heavier than he expected, but he managed to get her just across the barrier of _Sugar Rush_ and dropped her carelessly on the floor of the electrical cord tunnel. There she lay, the innocent babe with candy in her hair and a little tiara on her head. She would not ever experience life in its fullest, never live to her full potential as a racer _or_ a ruler.

Turbo grabbed the girl's head firmly with both hands and braced himself to snap her neck, fully prepared to get rid of the one thing standing in his way of being the game's monarch and...

He couldn't do it.

A single shred of humanity worked its way into his conscience and guilt flooded into him from out of nowhere. Turbo looked down at the little child that he was intending to murder and he placed her head back down carefully on the ground, just staring at her in befuddlement.

Why couldn't he kill her? He had killed before, this time should be no different! What the hell was wrong with him?

Frustrated at himself, he backed away a few paces and ranted several colorful words about his situation. All these years of waiting to take over a game...all his work this week at making sure that happened...all he had to do was kill this little brat of a girl and it would all be his!

And he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill her. Something seemed too _evil_, too _heartless_, killing a small child that had barely begun to live, who had done no harm to anyone. The others...they had wronged him so they had deserved it in his eyes. But this child...she hadn't done anything to deserve death.

He kicked the side of the tunnel angrily. Okay, so if he couldn't kill her, then _what_ was he supposed to do with her? He couldn't very well let her stay a princess or even stay in the game as a racer. It would ruin _everything_.

_A glitch_.

Turbo suddenly remembered that pesky uni-candy-corn (he'd found out its name was Skittles while in the Code Room) and the fact that it had a glitch in its programming that would not allow it to leave the Candy Corn Fields. That gave him an idea. He could turn her into a glitch. She would be alive, but she would not be part of the game. Sure, she would be an outcast and there was that deal about her not ever being able to leave the game (he had known of a few glitches and he knew very well that they could not leave their games), but she would be _alive_. He wouldn't have to add another murder to his ledger.

That would be easy enough. All he had to do was rip her coding out from where it was located amongst the other codes. He would have to go back and erase her own memories before he did that though and prepare to lock them up as well, which he had not yet done thank goodness. He would also have to alter some of the game's rules, since he was fairly sure that she would feel in her code that she was meant to race and maybe even sneak into one. Racers were all the same, they all felt that strong desire to do what they were designed for.

He knew that more than anyone.

Turbo looked down at the soon-to-be ex-princess, still laying there on her back with her head turned to the side, the only sign of life being her breathing. Yeah, he could handle keeping her alive. It wouldn't be so tough. Just enforce strict rules everywhere and she'd be bound to not cause any trouble for him. At least he could keep his hands clean of any more blood. He felt a little better about himself at this choice he'd made. It would be less cruel to keep her alive, right?

* * *

_**Present Day**_

Turbo stared off to the side after he finished talking, not sure if he wanted to see Vanellope's reaction to the story. She didn't say anything for a while and the silence in the room was strangely deafening. Finally, he heard her shift in her throne to sit up straight.

"So you didn't do it because deep-down, you're really not bad."

He turned his head towards her, his eyes widened at her analysis.

"Don't get me wrong, it wasn't fun being picked on and treated like a virus," Vanellope continued, waving her lollipop around in her hand as she gestured. "But from what you just told me, you thought you were doing me a favor by at least letting me live."

She hopped down and walked up to him, a little bit of fear evident in his eyes. He wasn't sure exactly what she was getting at with this. He didn't like having people analyze him, it made him feel...violated. Exposed. It was embarrassing to have someone figure something out about his psyche that he would prefer to keep private. He had felt the same way when General Hologram had done it.

"Even though you did a really bad thing, I don't think that's the real you," Vanellope went on to say, an air of gentleness in her words as if she herself were talking to a young child. "You just got all mixed up in your head and thought that was the only way to go about getting what you wanted. If you were a _really_ bad person, you wouldn't have hesitated to kill me, right?"

He looked down at her blankly and, not knowing what to say, simply nodded.

"And you probably didn't want me knowing this, but I heard you were having problems with people bullying you," she kept on, her over-sized hazel eyes full of understanding. "I know how that feels and even though it was kinda your fault I had to deal with it, I already made sure it wouldn't happen to you here."

Why was she being so nice to him? Turbo's eyes shifted back away from her uncomfortably and he rubbed the back of his neck. She had been bullied because he had decreed that she was a danger to the game, thus causing everyone to do any cruel thing they could think of to keep her from trying to race. A lot of good _that_ did. She had went through the same thing that he was dealing with _(because of_ _him_, no less) and it baffled him completely that she had gone out of her way to ensure that he would be perfectly fine here in _Sugar Rush. _It didn't make sense to him.

"Thanks," he said once he forced his eyes back onto her, feeling embarrassed at the generosity. "And...sorry about that."

"Don't sweat it," Vanellope shrugged, waving it off with her free hand as she used the other to stick her treat back in her mouth. "Past is past."

Too bad everybody else didn't think that way.

"But that doesn't exclude you from pranks and good-natured teasing, so you know."

He sighed with a slight groan mixed with it, even though he'd already expected _that_ to happen anyway.

"So even though you knew I'd regenerate, even with my glitch status, how come you tried to kill me during that race last year?" she prodded on, referring to when his true identity had been revealed.

Turbo winced at the memory but he forced himself to glare down at her. "Hey, I thought you were only going to ask one question?"

Vanellope rolled her eyes and talked around the lollipop in her mouth. "I'm pwesident, I can change da wules."

He sighed but his glare disappeared and a more sheepish look took its place.

"I...I...got desperate," he answered her quietly, turning his eyes away from her. "I...didn't want to lose another home...I wouldn't have belonged anywhere..._again_. I knew I couldn't really kill you, I..."

He wasn't sure if he had a decent enough explanation for it, his hands moving in a slow circular gesture as he thought. Vanellope didn't rush him, she stood there quite patiently waiting for him to finish. It was really unnerving having her standing there staring at him like that.

"I just lost my temper, I guess," he finally offered up, even though to him it sounded pretty lame. "Everything went spiraling out of control and...it just went..."

He softly pounded a fist into his palm to demonstrate the rest of his sentence. _Crash and burn._

Vanellope rolled her candy around in her mouth as she considered that, the stick portion of it turning in little circles from her little puckered lips. Turbo was reminded of how Taffyta did the same thing _all the freaking time_ and how he always was so tempted to slap it out of her mouth. She finally stopped doing the irritating motion and pulled it out of her mouth with a _pop!_

"All right, I'll buy that," she said casually.

Turbo literally was startled at the way she responded, as if it wasn't a big deal that he just confessed to trying to kill her.

"That's it?" he asked dubiously, waiting for her to say something else.

"Yeah, that's it," the candy-haired child responded before biting off the remains of her lollipop and lazily placing the stick part of it between her head and ear like a pencil, planning to throw it away later.

This was bizarre to say the least. He had just confessed that he had tried to kill her _twice_ and she was just accepting it with no further questions? If he hadn't had his helmet on, he would've scratched his head in confusion. This made no sense! She should have been furious with him! He deserved to go to the Fungeon for this, why in all of Litwak's was she being so forgiving?

Interrupting his thoughts, Vanellope cleared her throat and straightened herself up to look more authoritative. "All right, so you're stuck here for two weeks in our care. Don't think this is gonna be a vacation though, you're not just gonna sit around and be a lazy-bones. We have _plenty_ of things for you to occupied."

"I was afraid of that."

She smirked at him, the more familiar spark of mischief returning to her eyes.

"So...I hate to ask, but where exactly am I staying?" inquired the former racer, feeling knots in his stomach already.

The smirk she was wearing seemed to deepen which only increased Turbo's anxiety.

"At Gloyd Orangeboar's."

His eyes popped open as dread entered into him. "The prankster kid?"

"Yup."

"Are you nuts? He probably has his house booby-trapped!"

* * *

Turbo stood right outside the opened door to the giant mellowcreme pumpkin that Gloyd called home, his eyes closed due to the chocolate pie that had been slapped in his face. He should have known that the little trickster would have rigged something to happen to him once he opened the door, and in this case he had triggered a pie to fly through the air and directly into him. The unmistakable sound of boyish laughter was the only noise he could hear. Turbo counted to ten in his head to calm down and he slowly reached a hand up to wipe the whipped cream, chocolate, and the crust from the pie from around his eyes so he could open them, then proceeded to fling the destroyed dessert to the side to get it off his fingers.

Gloyd was literally rolling on the floor laughing at his simple yet effective prank, the pumpkin hat he normally wore now laying off to the side since he rolled around so much. The laughing wasn't mean-spirited though, at least it didn't sound like it, it was more of the "that was too funny!" kind. Turbo licked the pie that was around his mouth, grateful that at least it had been _chocolate_ pie that he had been _splatted_ with, and went on to try wiping the rest of it off his face.

"Not bad, pumpkin boy," he commented dryly.

"I can't believe you fell for it!" Gloyd chuckled as he stood himself up, propping an arm against one of the chairs that was positioned around his small table. "You didn't even duck down or nothin'!"

Turbo spat a little to the side to get rid of some crust that was annoyingly staying stuck to his lip. "Yep, you really got me there."

"You're gonna have to be more on your toes if you're gonna live with _me_," the boy playfully warned with a lopsided grin.

The front door opened straight up to the kitchen area, which in Gloyd's house was decorated with candy corn, pumpkins, and various shades of orange and brown. Fitting for a Halloween themed racer. To the right was two doors that led to the two bedrooms, main and guest. The left side of the house contained a full bathroom. The other racers' houses had similar layouts, save for of course Vanellope's castle which had about three guest rooms with their own private baths and balconies, a giant dining room with an extra-long table to house all the racers at once should they ever eat there, a much larger and fancier kitchen, and even a treasure room full of an infinite supply of gold-wrapped chocolate coins ("King Candy" had quite enjoyed that room).

Gloyd grabbed a dishtowel from his sink and threw it unceremoniously at his disgruntled guest, who caught it with his clean hand before turning to the side to remove the rest of the pie from his being. He had to tug his helmet up a little bit to get whatever had sneaked in underneath it.

"Your room is the one farthest from the door," Gloyd instructed him when he was done, pointing a thumb towards the guest room. "The bed might be a bit small for you but it shouldn't be uncomfortable. Vanellope said she was told that you were used to sleeping while the arcade was open so we'll just keep it at that to make things easier. We hardly sleep around here to be honest since we're all hyped up on sugar."

Yeah, Turbo remembered that about the kids. He'd be trying to catch a nap after the arcade was closed in his cushy royal bedroom and he'd still be able to hear them all goofing around as far out as the Ice Cream Mountains where Adorabeezle Winterpop and her twin Nougestia Brumblestain lived. He also recalled his constant use of gummy ear plugs during those times.

"Well, you gonna become part of the yard decor or are you gonna come in?"

Turbo gave him a small shooting glare and then proceeded to very carefully step one foot in the door and glanced around warily, not trusting this kid for a minute. Who knew what other booby traps he had set up around the house? Gloyd couldn't help but snicker behind his hand watching the older racer tiptoe towards the guest room with his nerves on edge, even tapping the door knob quickly to make sure it didn't jolt him when he touched it. When he figured out that the door itself wasn't going to kill him, he slowly twisted the handle and threw the door open, ducking back behind the wall once he did so.

Gloyd was cracking up at the show. "Man, Vanellope wasn't kidding when she said you were paranoid."

"_Cautious_," Turbo corrected him bluntly as he ducked his head in the room on the lookout for anything that might get him.

The room appeared to be safe. It consisted of orange walls and brownish taffy curtains that were currently opened to let natural light in. The bed was a twin-sized rectangular sheet cake with the usual tightly-woven cotton candy sheets that most everyone's bedsheets were made of. These were orange of course and the bed frame was carved from dark chocolate. The furniture was made of candy bark, again like most everyone else's, and these were colored to match the bed frame. The carpet was a neutral tan color and it was the deep fluffy kind that you can make your toes disappear in. Turbo tossed his bag on the bed, jumping back a little bit just in case the bed was rigged.

"Yeah, I'm still going to go with _paranoid_," Gloyd insisted, his arms crossed and shaking his head with a smirk on his face.

Turbo rolled his eyes but he _was_ relieved that there weren't any more surprises in store for him...yet. He turned around with his hands folded behind his back to face the young rosy-cheeked lad.

"So what fun-filled activity do you have planned?" he asked with a bored expression.

Gloyd grinned and held up a finger to signal "hang on a sec!" and dashed off to his own room. Turbo just stood there and began to check the underside of his nails when the boy didn't return after a good full minute.

"Take a wrong turn somewhere?" he joked after another minute ticked by.

"I'm back!" Gloyd announced as he slid back into view, holding a folded sheet of paper in one hand.

Before Turbo could ask what it was, the boy had leaned over and grabbed him by the sleeve with his other hand and was dragging him out towards the front yard.

"I'll explain when we get there!"


	16. Candy Corn and Lovelorn

_Ms aCorn: Gloyd is the easiest of the boys for me to write for, plus he's one of my favorite racers anyway. It was just a matter of personal preference, no deep reason for it :) And yeah, there was no way he was going to stay with one of the girls lol, but he will get to hang out with them too, of course. Thanks for the review and for reading! :)_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Sixteen**

The Candy Corn Fields stood before the two racers, both from different generations of gaming, in all its sweet glory. Acres of copper-red stalks bearing ripe cobs of candy corn made up the backyard of Gloyd Orangeboar's house and, quite frankly, Turbo hadn't really looked forward to seeing it again. The last time he had went through there, Skittles had tried to incinerate him...not exactly his idea of a good time. He shuddered at the memory of the pony's hot breath blowing down his back. Gloyd unfolded his mystery paper and jumped up a bit to put it in Turbo's direct line of sight, prompting him to grab it so he could view it without Gloyd having to reach up on his tiptoes the whole time.

What Turbo saw appeared to be a large square made up of small dots, and the dots had lines all through them, some of them encircled. There were also numerical notations on the square's perimeter. He turned the paper around upside-down to see if it made more sense that way but it didn't. Finally, he sighed in defeat and asked,

"What the hell am I looking at?"

Gloyd gasped in an exaggerated manner, prompting Turbo to look down with alarm.

"What?" he asked in an embarrassingly high-pitched tone, thinking something had happened to the lad. "What's wrong?"

"You said a curse word!"

Turbo's panicked face dropped back into an annoyed one, then he wiped a hand down his face in exasperation. This was gonna be a loooooong two weeks...

"Gimme a break, kid," he remarked grouchily when he sneered back down at him. "You guys may have the rest of the world fooled, but I know you're not all _that_ innocent. What do you think you _really_ mean when you say stuff like 'oh, fudge' or that you're going to kick someone's 'molasses', huh?"

"Yeah, but at least we disguise it in clever 'Rated E for Everyone' puns and not the actual _word_!" Gloyd argued back, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The two of them held a glaring contest for a while, Turbo's yellow eyes piercing into Gloyd's brown ones. Turbo finally had enough and turned his head away from the boy, who smirked triumphantly to himself at "winning" the contest.

"Just answer my question," insisted Turbo impatiently, gently shaking the paper he was still holding in his hand to remind Gloyd why they were out there.

Gloyd's eyes brightened up at the reminder and he grabbed his paper back and skipped towards the fields with his arms open wide. "We're going to make a maze!"

The reaction from Turbo was not what he had wanted though it should have been what he expected. The older racer had a flat expression on his face and he stared at the child through dull eyes.

"We're...what?"

Gloyd turned around at his unimpressed tone and bounced back towards him. "A maze!" he repeated excitedly. "You know, one that you can walk through and get lost in and all that fun stuff!"

It would be no different than a corn maze that children went through in the Real World, usually during the autumn months. Turbo had no knowledge of this sort of thing, of course, so he didn't understand the point of it._ Sugar Rush_ was a _racing _game after all, and this had no relation to the sport whatsoever...unless you drove your kart through it, which he doubted would be the case here..

"What's the purpose of this?"

Gloyd rolled his eyes dramatically. "For _fun_! What else?"

The adult of the duo didn't understand what was so fun about getting lost but he wasn't about to get into an argument about a child's logic..._with_ a child.

"What's all that stuff on that paper supposed to be?" he asked instead, twirling one finger towards the scribbled-on sheet.

Gloyd opened his paper back up and held it up in the air at Turbo's eye level, using his finger to point out the stuff that was on it.

"The dots represent the actual stalks. It took forever to count them all, by the way," he told him as he began to explain. "Anyway, I have the stalks circled that need to be removed that will become the paths and dead ends in the maze. We have to go around and tie those off with licorice rope so we'll know which ones to go back and chop down later."

Turbo realized what he was looking at was a detailed map. He also realized that the numbers on the side were supposed to represent how large the field was and the area of it, and all that mathematical jazz. To be honest, he was quite impressed that a kid had put this much work into something this complicated.

"You realize this is going to take forever, right?" he said at length, looking back down at his "gracious host".

Gloyd just smiled and shook his head, folding his paper back up to put in his jacket pocket. "Nah, it's not like me and you are going to be the only ones working on it. Everybody else is helping out, not at the same time though, so it shouldn't take near as long as you think it will."

Well,_ that_ was a relief. Turbo felt pretty lazy admitting to himself that he was glad he wasn't going to be worked to the bone like he thought he was. Then again, the idea of being surrounded by all the kids at once sounded like a nightmare...and overwhelming. Gloyd at least wasn't proving to be as much of a pest as he had expected or even giving him a hard time about his past, but what if the other kids were different? He suddenly wished he had another adult around to keep him company. Also, the desire to have a drink hit him but he forced himself to push the urge away.

"Sounds like a good plan," he allowed himself to smile softly. "Except for one problem."

Gloyd's face fell. "What's that?"

Turbo pointed out towards the fields, his face developing a more aggravated look. "_There's a fire-breathing pony in there, in case you don't remember!"_

He was astonished that the boy started laughing at him, not to mention a little pissed off at the impudence.

"I see nothing funny about getting burnt to a crisp, Orangeboar."

Gloyd had tears coming out of the corners of his eyes. "Wow, you mean Skittles? He's totally harmless!"

Turbo's eyes bugged out. "_Harmless_?" he repeated, disbelief evident in his voice. "That furry furnace is anything _but_ harmless!"

The young prankster shook his head at the ground before looking back up at the adult. "Just give him some sugar cubes and you'll be his best friend for life."

"I highly doubt that will be the case with me," Turbo muttered, remembering that even during his reign as "king", the uni-candy-corn had never liked him despite all his efforts at being nice to the fiery beast.

Gloyd rolled his eyes for what felt like the fiftieth time since Turbo came to him. However, he _had_ offered up his home rather than being forced into it by his president, so it was his own fault that he was having to deal with this guy. He was determined to get him to lighten up, whatever it took, and hopefully it didn't take the entire two weeks that he was here.

"Boy, I'm glad I can't grow up and be a grumpy old guy like you."

Turbo twisted his head down at him with a scowl. "I'm not old...or grumpy," he retorted, crossing his arms.

"You certainly _looked_ old when you were playing king."

"I aged myself purposely," he explained bitterly. "I'm only thirty, thank you very much."

"Whatever. You're still grumpy," Gloyd shrugged with a hint of a smirk still on his childish face. "How does Missus Turbo put up with you?"

Gloyd was surprised that he managed to get a genuine smile out of the not-old-or-grumpy man when he mentioned the wife. Then again, he supposed it was only natural for married couples to smile when they thought about each other, otherwise they wouldn't be married.

"'Missus Turbo', huh?" he couldn't help but chuckle at the cutesy title bestowed upon her. _I wonder what she's doing right now..._

* * *

The echo of the gunfire rang in Rosie's ears even though she had the protective ear muffs on. She was standing behind and slightly to the left of Calhoun as she finished emptying her magazine into the target in front of her, both of them at the shooting range in _Hero's Duty_. Every time Rosie heard the gun go off, she jolted a little bit even though she knew it wasn't _her_ that was being aimed at. Finally, the tall blonde removed her goggles and headgear, tossing them carelessly in a small bin behind her and snapped her fingers at Rosie to get her to do the same. Rosie didn't know Calhoun very well but she had figured out pretty quick that if she told you to do something, you did it _immediately_.

"So, pom-poms, what did you want to talk about?" the sergeant asked as the two walked out of the room and into a long corridor. She wasn't one for chit-chat or especially girl talk but when the redhead had asked to speak to her about something, she had seemed rather anxious and Calhoun found herself unable to say "no".

Rosie looked down as they walked, fiddling with her hands nervously. It was a habit that Calhoun despised, even though her own husband was guilty of doing it sometimes, but she couldn't help but be annoyed with it.

"Well, I sort of wanted to ask about you and Felix," she answered her, finally craning her head up towards her as she tried to keep up the pace with the taller woman.

Calhoun cut her eyes to the side as if trying to figure out if that was a good idea or not. She eventually nodded her head to the side down another hallway where they ended up at a door that Calhoun had to swipe a card key through, granting access into what turned out to be her personal chambers. The apartment was designed like any other army barrack: a simple bed decked in olive bedding that was tucked in tightly due to military standards, a simple black chrome night stand with a glowing digital alarm clock, off-white bare walls with the exception of one with a mirror on it that was positioned in front of a breakfast table, a small kitchen just big enough for one person to go into, a small door to the side on the far wall that led to a small bathroom and then a smaller one beside it that was the closet.

Rosie sat down in one of the table chairs that Calhoun motioned for her to go to while she reached inside her closet for more "civilian" clothes to wear and ducked into the bathroom.

"What about me and short stack did you want to know?" the sergeant queried from behind the closed door. "Better not be for any bedroom advice."

"Oh, no...we don't need help with that," she smiled shyly to herself, a blush creeping along her cheeks. "I was just wondering...how long did you two know each other before you got married?"

Calhoun stepped out in an olive tank top and khaki cargo pants, her dog tags hanging loosely from her neck. She went to hang up her armor in her closet, her silence rather unnerving to her guest.

"About three months," she answered at last as she shut the closet door and then headed towards the kitchen. "Coffee?"

Rosie shook her head in declination, a shocked look present on her face at the same time. "Three months? That's it?"

"That's all we needed," Calhoun told her bluntly from the kitchen. The muted sound of the coffeemaker filled the air and she went to take a seat across from Rosie at the small table. "Sure, it was a little faster than most people, but when you're in love, why wait?"

Calhoun noticed Rosie had a worried, if not nauseated, look on her face, her brow knitted with worry.

"Yeah, but you don't ever think about all those years Felix lived before he met you?" she wanted to know, her fingers playing with the ends of her skirt under the table. "Like, all the stuff he did, all the life experiences he had?"

The sergeant pondered for a second. "I'll have to answer in the negative for that one. Felix isn't the most adventurous guy in the world, so I don't think I have to worry that he did any daredevil stunts before I showed up," she replied with a crooked smile.

"And you don't think you moved too fast? Not even a little bit?"

The coffeemaker beeped, signalling that the brew was ready, so Calhoun paused the conversation momentarily to go and fix herself a cup. Rosie didn't think she could come back any slower if she tried. The blonde finally returned, sitting back down in her seat and sipping her hot beverage before placing the mug in front of her.

"I don't think you really wanted to ask about me and Felix," she deduced after another moment of silence. "I think you feel like you need to validate your own marriage."

Rosie instantly shot her eyes to the floor. "It's not that I think we moved too fast," she began, wringing her hands in her lap. "I mean, we were together four years before he...disappeared. But then we didn't see each other again for a quarter of a century, and-"

"And you got married the same day you found each other," Calhoun finished for her, trying to get to the point here. "So what? You think there's some mumbo-jumbo you needed to clear up that happened in that 'little' chunk of absence?"

"Well, it's just...I guess I didn't realize that it was going to be this way," Rosie confessed, feeling bashful at discussing this with a near stranger. "We both went through a lot but I think I fared better than he did, since I'm not the one having nightmares or having social issues. I sort of wished we'd cleared that up sooner."

Calhoun studied her as she took another sip. "You're not regretting marrying him are you?"

Rosie's eyes widened at the very thought. "Oh, no, I would've married him regardless."

The sergeant shrugged her hands up above her head briefly. "Then what's the big deal? Who cares how fast or slow you guys went so long as you love him?"

A hurt look filled the other girl's eyes when she heard that and a lightbulb clicked in Calhoun's head.

"You don't think he loves you back?"

Rosie seemed almost ashamed of herself. "I...I started thinking that...I know he loves me, but..." Her bottom lip began to quiver as she spoke. "I think not as much as I do him."

She held her face in her hand to cover her eyes to try and keep tears from flowing but it didn't work. She cursed herself inwardly, hating that she felt this way. Fortunately, she didn't go into a full-on cry session because Calhoun had reached over to grab her arm in order to shock her into reality.

"Why do you think that?" she demanded to know as she leaned back in her chair again.

Rosie wiped the tears from her face, trying to get a grip on herself. "I...I had asked him...if he could pick me or his old home...which one would he want...and he didn't even answer."

Calhoun looked a little surprised. "You mean you actually asked a man to choose between two things?" she smiled wryly. "You realize that's impossible for them to do, right?"

She choked a laugh despite the somber mood she was in.

"Listen, I don't know you two very well, but...come on, give the guy a break," the blonde had to chuckle. "This week's been pretty rough on him, he's probably not thinking the way he normally does. Obviously, since he got boozed up and tried to drive through a giant piece of candy."

Rosie had to crack a smile at that, appreciating that the hard-nosed sergeant was trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

"And trust me, beauty pageant, I'm not one for sentiments but I've seen the way he looks at you. It's the same way Felix looks at me," she assured her, a real smile coming to her own lips as she thought about her sweet little husband. "So, I don't think you have to worry about him loving you because all you have to do is glance at him and tell. And the last thing he needs right now is you doubting him, because everybody else is already doing that."

She hadn't even considered that notion. "You're right," she told Calhoun, a bigger smile forming now. "I'm probably just overreacting."

"Sure you are!" the soldier barked in agreement, slapping the table for emphasis. "Now get out there and be supportive! And no more kleenex moments out of you!"

* * *

Rosie walked through Game Central Station after she left _Hero's Duty_, a few people saying "hello" to her as they passed by. She was glad she had decided to talk to the sergeant, she felt much better and a little more resolved than she had earlier. Of course Turbo loved her, she had been silly to think otherwise. He was just going through a hard time and needed to work it out. She felt pretty selfish about how she had felt earlier, this was about _him,_ not _her,_ after all.

She approached a bench and muttered a rather vulgar word under her breath when she saw who was sitting on it. Her stomach tightened but she clenched her jaw and strolled over there with a look of determination. She cleared her throat to prompt Officer Bob to turn around and give his trademark shit-eating grin at her, that stupid toothpick jutting out of his mouth like an unlit cigarette.

"I just want to thank you for not killing my husband," she smiled sarcastically as she peered down at the policeman. "I appreciated having him come home in one piece."

Bob turned his head to chortle stupidly and then turned back around towards Rosie. "I didn't force him to do anything. He came to _me_ wanting that shit. Poor guy was whining about you leaving him, how could I decline his request?"

Rosie glared at him, her green eyes dark with hatred for the man before her. "Don't shit with me, dickface," she growled. "You come near him again and _I'll_ be the one you better be watching out for."

She stormed off before he had a chance to respond but she heard the laughter anyway. Why couldn't someone just "accidentally" kill that guy already? It was a horrible thought, but dang it all she really hated him. She shook it off as she headed towards a certain sugary world, hoping she wouldn't get too lost as she had never even been there before.


	17. Send in the Clowns, err, Children!

_FYI, The flashback used in this chapter is actually a continuation of the one used in Chapter 16 of "That Little Game...", the one involving King Candy and Candlehead. And yes, I actually looked up instructions on how to make a corn maze so they are doing it correctly lol. Turbo and I thank everyone for all the wonderful reviews so far! :)  
_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Oh yeah, she was lost. Not that Rosie really minded being lost in a place that looked like _this_!

Once she had reached the starting point of Rainbow Road, her jaw dropped and her eyes grew larger as she took in the enormous candy world spread out before her. The air smelled sweeter than any other she had ever experienced, the colors were the brightest, and don't even get her started on the amazing graphics. This place was literally ripped out of a dream; she couldn't imagine why Turbo hated it here so much, it was absolutely divine!

Hmm, okay so...where to go? She realized she probably should have found someone that knew their way around before ever trekking inside, but she hadn't counted on it being such a huge place. It was definitely the largest game world she'd ever been in and also the most impressive. She squinted out ahead of her to scan the expansive domain and her eyes fell on the sugar-white castle that she was sure Vanellope resided in. A little voice in the back of her head reminded her that Turbo himself had lived there as well not very long ago...it was just last summer that "King Candy's" rule had ended, strange as that sounded.

Oh well, there was sure to be no better guide than the president. If only this place came with a map, perhaps she wouldn't have ended up lost. She had reasoned that if she stuck to the racetrack that she would eventually reach a starting line which would be close enough to some civilization. Unfortunately, it was a very long track and she was beginning to wonder if she was even going in the right direction. After about thirty minutes of this, the sound of engines approached from behind and Rosie had enough sense to know to get out of the way.

Vanellope was racing around with Snowanna and the candy-haired president's kart screeched to a halt, spinning into a half-donut and the left side's wheels lifting off the track to tilt the car slightly before the whole kart slammed back down in a proper position. Snowanna hadn't caught up yet, as her kart wasn't as fast as her president's. Vanellope pushed her goggles up on top of her head, her hair windblown from speeding about, and she hopped out with a big toothy grin on her face.

"Sweet mother of monkey milk, you think someone that's married to a racer would know to steer clear of the tracks!" she joked loudly as she ran to go give Rosie a squeezing hug.

"Hey, I got off before you ran me over," the cheerleader told her as she returned the gesture.

Vanellope glitched backwards off of her. "Hey, you wanna ride around and see some of the sights?" she asked excitedly.

Rosie wasn't sure, she kind of wanted to see how Turbo was handling things so far. She had been concerned that the first few hours here would be the roughest on him. Vanellope sensed the hesitation and gave her a sly smile.

"It'll give the hubs more time to miss you," she added coyly, the end of her sentence having a sing-song tone to it.

The teen smirked back, thinking that wasn't such a bad idea. "All right, you win. Lead away, tour guide."

* * *

To say Skittles did not approve of the gray-skinned racer being in _his_ field would have been a vast understatement. Turbo had been minding his own business, whistling as he did his little chore of counting off stalks and pulling along a licorice rope to wrap the bunches in that he had been doing for the past hour, when the equine sneaked up behind him on quiet hooves, his presence only noted when hot breath was felt on the racer's back. Turning around slowly with widened eyes of fear, Turbo grinned nervously at his pink nemesis.

"Hehe, hey there, Skittles," he greeted through clenched teeth, a fake smile glued to his face. "You're probably still upset about that comment I made about tanning your hide, huh? And flipping you the bird? That was all a joke, buddy, I was just playing."

The uni-candy-corn whinnied loudly and raised his front legs up. Turbo didn't need to be told twice to the get the heck of his way. He dropped his spool of rope and hightailed it for the edge of the field where the beast could not get him. Why the heck Gloyd had said that this thing was harmless, he wasn't sure, but he was _dearly_ mistaken! Unfortunately, he tripped on his own feet and received a face full of brown sugar dirt, and much to his horror could hear the stomping of the hooves getting closer to him. Expecting the worst, Turbo curled up in a protective ball, hoping his helmet would be enough to protect his skull from being crushed.

That's when the Swizz showed up.

The green-haired tanned boy slid into view, kicking up some dust in his wake, and blocked Skittles from going any further towards Turbo. The enraged uni-candy-corn halted to a stop upon seeing the familiar child yet he brayed in protest at not being allowed to go any further.

"No, Skittles, bad!" Swizzle scolded him, shaking a disapproving finger at him. "Go away!"

Skittles blew out some hot air, his feet prancing in place as he debated to either do as he was told or disobey. Turbo had peeked out once he heard Swizzle's voice and, upon seeing that was more than likely out of danger, dared to roll onto his back and propped his upper body up with his elbows bent backwards beneath him.

"If you don't go, you won't get any sugar cube treats," bribed the Swizz when the animal didn't move.

Folding his ears back, Skittles raised his head and snorted then turned around and trotted away. Swizzle held his arms in the air and rotated around slowly in a circle, a proud look on his face.

"Please, please, hold your applause," he said to the imaginary crowd in his head, throwing in a few bows for added measure.

Turbo stared at him in a mix of both awe and bewilderment, his heart still racing from the scare he'd had. He heard footsteps approaching quickly from his right and both Gloyd and Rancis appeared, the latter appearing out of breath.

"What happened?" Gloyd asked as the Swizz finally straightened up and stuck his hands in his blue jacket's pockets.

"Oh nothing," he replied in his usual cool demeanor, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just doing the everyday hero thing."

"You mean I got all sweaty for nothing?" Rancis whined, wiping his brow with one hand and flinging the moisture to the side.

"Oh please, you're _such_ a baby," joked Gloyd as he punched him in the arm, causing the blonde boy to rub his shoulder. He finally noticed Turbo still laying in the dirt and he said, "Speaking of whiny babies, what are you doing laying down on the job?"

Turbo tried to muster up a glare at him, but he ended up looking more insulted than anything. "Hey, I came _this close _to getting killed by your little _harmless_ pet, I'll have you know!"

Swizzle puffed up his chest and pointed to himself. "_I_ came to the rescue."

"What do you want, a medal?" Gloyd asked him as he stuck his arm out to help Turbo get up, while Rancis went around behind him to push up on his upper back for an added boost.

Once he was upright, Turbo dusted off the brown sugar from his suit that had stuck when he fell.

Gloyd spoke up again. "I guess that's my fault for not giving you sugar cubes before we went in here," he said apologetically, digging in his jacket. "Hold your hand out."

Turbo received the little treat bag of treats for the tyrannical equine, which consisted of simple everyday cubes of compacted white sugar.

"We had to do the same thing when we all first explored this area back when we got plugged in," Rancis further explained.

Swizzle chuckled as he put his hands back in his jacket pockets, his posture that of relaxation. "Yeah, Candlehead was snacking on a few that she had brought with her and she dropped some while he was chasing us. Then he stopped and he ended up liking _her_, so we all figured to do the same thing only we hand-fed him instead of just dropping them on the ground in front of him."

"Huh, I wish I'd known that sooner," muttered Turbo, unable to fully believe that just straight sugar was all he needed to keep the beast at bay.

"Well, you_ could_ have known if you'd hung out with us more," Gloyd replied under his breath.

He regretted saying that because judging by the look on Turbo's face, he had heard him, and it wasn't a very nice look either. Thankfully they were saved from being chewed out for back-talking when more girlish voices came into their hearing. Turbo had to turn his head to see Crumbelina and Adorabeezle showed up, skipping along the rows...or rather Adorabeezle was, Crumbelina had a more sophisticated gait but they both managed to keep up the same pace.

"What do you girls want?" Gloyd asked in an annoyed tone, crossing his arms. "You better come prepared to work."

"We're here for important business," the Italian-dessert themed girl responded as the two girls approached the male group.

Adorabeezle pointed one of her pale fingers at Turbo's boots. "Pick up your foot, please."

Turbo gave her an odd look but he did what she said just to keep from having to deal with arguing with a girl. He didn't move a muscle save for bending his knee so his foot would be up. Crumbelina pulled out a small brush to dust the bottom of his shoe off then brought out a measuring tape, stretching it out vertically and then changed to a more horizontal position. She pointed her finger down to symbolize that he could rest his foot back down on the ground then measured how tall the boot was on his leg. Turbo turned his head back to the boys with a questioning look but all the boys did was shrug, not knowing what they were doing.

Crumbelina rolled her tape back up and stuck it in the pocket of her gold jacket, then nodded once at Adorabeezle before turning around and walking off.

"Thanks, Mister Turbo!" Adorabeezle grinned at him happily, the large cherries dangling from her hat swaying back and forth, and then she bounced off after her more polished friend.

"What in the name of deep-fried Snickers bars was _that_?" Rancis wanted to know before the girls had even disappeared.

_Why are kids so random? _Turbo thought to himself, trying to keep from rolling his eyes as he didn't want to hear any lip from the boys.

"Ahh, they're just bein' girls," Swizzle said to his peanut-butter themed friend, leaning to the side a little so he could look past Turbo and watch them leave. Turbo turned his head to the side to hide a grin, finding it humorous that a nine-year-old would be perverted enough to sneak a peek at his female peers' cabooses.

Gloyd clapped his hands together to get the attention back to him. "Okay, enough dawdling. If we're gonna get this thing done, we need to get back to work!"

* * *

**About Thirty Minutes Later...  
**

Candlehead had wandered along with both Sticky Wipplesnit and Taffyta Muttonfudge, the latter doing not much else but sucking on her strawberry lollipop much to Turbo's annoyance. It didn't take him long to determine that Sticky was just a _little_ boy crazy, as she would at first tag along after Swizzle, then Gloyd, then Rancis, and then make her way back to Swizzle again. The only one who didn't show her any attention was Gloyd, who would probably much rather be pranking her (and any other girl) rather than trying to make kissy-face. Rancis apparently thought himself cooler than whipped cream when it came to girls what with his slight boasting, which was pretty laughable in Turbo's opinion; the Swizz was more of a natural guy, taking the relaxed don't-sweat-it approach.

Taffyta was beginning to creep Turbo out since she would stare at him judgmentally with those icy blue eyes of hers that he found himself avoiding. He would admit that she was definitely one of the better racers when he was king but he also didn't like her very much at all, as she reminded him a female Teddy as far as attitude went. Apparently the feeling had become mutual as she didn't even utter a word to him.

_Oh well, you can't win them all, _Turbo mentally said, and a bit of sadness entered into him as he began to recall how he had gotten shunned by so many people in Game Central Station.

The candle-topped lass had decided for whatever reason to follow Turbo around, humming random little songs to herself as she skipped after him to help with the licorice rope( even though she wasn't really helping, she just thought she was). The little flame on her head would waver every time she bopped her head and Turbo was getting antsy about her accidentally setting the field on fire. Then again, if he had to choose between _her _fire and _Skittles' _fire, he would choose the former each time. At least he could blow hers out, which he had to try not to do or else she'd have a screaming fit. You could only get away with doing that if she wasn't paying attention.

She started humming the _Sugar __Rush _theme, which was enough to drive Turbo insane. He had always hated hearing that bouncy little song with Japanese words he couldn't understand. He was fairly sure that the kids knew the translation, since they _were_ part of the game and it only made sense for them to know it.

"You know, I saw your eyes glitch one time when you were still the king," Candlehead mentioned randomly. "It kinda spooked me."

"Good," he replied bluntly, not wanting to encourage her to talk anymore. Conversations with Candlehead rarely made any sense, and he was speaking from personal experience.

The minty-green haired girl didn't seem to notice, or care, that he wasn't in a talking mood.

"It was that time I asked you if you wanted a queen," she continued to remind him as she looked down at the ground and tried to match her footsteps to step inside the ones Turbo left behind. "And to think you went and got one later."

He slowed down considerably, his eyes glazing over as the memory washed over him. Candlehead didn't notice his reaction to her statement, and if you asked her, she would say she was glad he had slowed down enough for her to actually keep up with him.

* * *

_**Sugar Rush - circa 2002**_

King Candy slammed the door to his royal chambers shut, an echo resounding down the hallway afterwards. How dare she, how dare that little brat! It had taken all that he had to keep himself from going into a tirade in front of _everyone_ after she had dared to ask him if he wanted...a _queen_? He had to keep himself together long enough to finish his chat with Sour Bill and then race back to his castle, hastily park the kart in its throne spot, and then storm off to his bedroom.

His breathing was at the point of hyperventilation, his fair skin reddened from the rage that he now allowed himself to feel, his blood literally boiling in his veins, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He squinted his brown eyes shut, trying to force himself to not think too much on it, remind himself that nobody here knew who he really was and certainly had no knowledge of _her_.

"Little damn pipsqueak brats," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Damn, damn, _damn_!"

He had been doing _so good_ at masquerading as the true king of Sugar Rush, doing _so good_ at keeping a lid on his true identity, doing _so good_ at keeping the memories of his past life locked up in the back part of his mind, especially the most painful ones. He had been able to fool himself into thinking that he belonged here, that this was really his home, _pretending_ to be happy for the first time in a long time.

And then that...candle-topped dolt of a child had to bring up possibly introducing a romantic counterpart into his life? The very suggestion that he even toy with the idea was absolutely laughable, ridiculous, and definitely _not_ turbo-tastic. He literally leaped on the bed to flop on his stomach, burying his face in his marshmallow pillow and started screaming into it to muffle the sound, his hands gripping tightly at wads of bedding as he let all his frustrations go. The screaming made his throat and chest hurt and he finally grew exhausted from the experience, but it mattered not. The yells eventually turned into sobs and he wrapped his arms around his pillow to hug it, soaking it in salty tears.

_Why did she have to DIE? God, I wouldn't even be here surrounded by these people that don't even know who I really am if she were alive. _

He sat up once he'd calmed down some to wipe his eyes with one of his purple coat sleeves and attempted to get his breathing back to normal. He peered around his stolen bedroom, the one that belonged to someone else (_the glitch)_, and his eyes fell on his full-length mirror standing in the corner of the room. The king crawled off the bed and went over to it, his reflection apparent long before he reached it.

No, not _his_ reflection. It wasn't _him_ in the mirror, it was someone else. Someone that didn't really exist, a made up being, a facade. The clownish over-sized nose, the bald head save for a couple patches of gray hair and eyebrows, a huge red bow tie, ludicrous elf shoes with little jingles on the end. This was the reflection of someone that was happy, someone that everyone loved, admired and respected.

He wasn't that person. If he were go out right now and tell everyone who he really was, he would be met with anger, hate and hostility. Maybe he deserved it, but he didn't want that.

_I want my old life back_.

Two pinkish hands pressed into the cool glass of the mirror's surface as he studied himself in it. He hadn't seen his real form in so long, he wondered if he would recognize it. What would he look like? A sad shadow of a man that had all the life sucked out of him? Or perhaps the malicious sneering face of a murderer and a fraud?

The king's normally gentle features transformed into a more monstrous one the longer he looked at himself, and he grabbed both sides of the mirror and threw it forcefully against the floor. It shattered as it impacted the candy rock tiles, a loud deafening crash bouncing off the walls and ceiling.

There, now he didn't have to look at "himself" anymore.

Or rather, he didn't have to be constantly reminded that he wasn't the same person that he was so many years ago during a better time of his life.

No, he had worked too hard and too long to make himself belong somewhere again. Too much time and planning, too much heartache and suffering on his part. He had kept it up for five years without a hitch and he was going to keep on playing his false role as long as he could, forever if he must.

_Don't lose your head, ol' boy. You're going to lose another home if you let every little thing knock you over the edge like that. _

_It's not really my home..._

_IT IS NOW, SHUT UP. This is your home now and you have to keep it that way! Don't let anything ruin that, especially yourself!_

_Damn it, I'm so lonely here though. I'm surrounded by snotty children and people made out of candy, for Namco's sake! _

_But they LIKE you, you're their KING. They all love you just the way you are. _

_But I'm not the way I am, I'm not myself._

_STOP SAYING THAT. Get your head back in the game and go out there and be the happy, jolly King Candy that everyone knows and loves. You'll be happier if you would just allow yourself to go along with it entirely. Calm down and stop snivelling or you'll ruin EVERYTHING. _

He stood there and argued with himself, the darker half winning as it usually did. It was always much simpler to go along with that part of him, it was the less painful route in the end. He cleared his throat and straightened up his red bow tie...

_Her hair was red..._

_SHUT THE HELL UP. _

He looked down at the shattered pieces of glass and the destroyed mirror frame, sighing as he did so. He supposed he would have to clean this mess himself, since he could hardly come up with any logical or believable explanation to give to Sour Bill as to why it had ended up on the floor like that.

Very well. Sometimes kings have to do things that they don't want to.

* * *

_**Present Day**_

"Do they glow in the dark?"

Turbo turned his head around and peered down when he heard the girlish voice snap him out of his memory. Dazed, he foggily remembered that Candlehead had been following him down the rows in the field and her huge green eyes stared at him blankly as she awaited the answer to her question.

"Do _what_ glow?"

"Your eyes!" she clarified, pointing at her own while crossing them. "Don't you remember what we were talking about?"

He blinked hard at her and then his features lowered into a glare, rather insulted by the question.

"What makes you think they do?" Turbo growled, turning his head forward so he could continue walking without tripping on himself...again.

"They already kinda glow in normal light, so I figured they _had_ to in the dark."

"That's a really rude assumption," he scolded her, starting to feel self-conscious about his eyes now, which he never had before. "And if you don't like my eyes, then don't look at them."

"But they're the color of lemon drops and I like lemon drops!" Candlehead chipperly stated.

Turbo was growing tempted to find the nearest candy tree and hang himself with the licorice to escape the insanity that he was surrounded by. When the heck was Rosie coming to visit? He felt pathetic pining for her after only being here maybe close to two hours, but he couldn't help it. Being here was reminding him of all those years that she hadn't been around and he felt himself getting a little depressed just thinking about it. He shook it off, telling himself she'd get here when she got here and until then he just needed to keep his mind preoccupied.


	18. Date, Interrupted

_All right, so I apologize if lately things seem to be going in such a fluffy direction to the point it seems like filler, but I swear this all pays off in the end. I just can't resist these kids bothering the heck out of Turbo lol. This was actually supposed to be the Valentine's Day chapter but I was having a bit of trouble with it, so it's late. Enjoy!  
_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Eighteen**

When he felt a pair of hands from behind him covering his eyes, Turbo jumped forward instinctively to escape them and twisted himself around to view his attacker. After seeing who it was and hearing the familiar warm laugh of the person it belonged to, he relaxed considerably, yet the aftershock was enough to keep his heart racing.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to kill me," he said, putting a hand over his heart in a futile motion to make it stop pounding.

Rosie giggled at him and reached her hand up to rock his helmet forward over his eyes playfully. "Well, if you weren't so _jumpy_..."

He tugged his helmet back upright on his head and gave her a sweet smile, more than happy to see her. Her attention was diverted to the flora they were surrounded by and she tapped one of the half-opened husks with corn showing through.

"Wow, these things are really candy corn!" she softly exclaimed with amazement. "And I thought the _peppermint trees_ were bizarre!"

It dawned on him that this was her first trip here and the childlike fascination that she had for everything reminded him of his own first time here. He felt disappointed that he hadn't been able to see her initial reaction to the place when she first saw it, which he chalked up to having at least a _little_ bit of pride at once having ruled over the place.

Or perhaps he simply liked to see her smile.

Swizzle popped up in between them and whatever good mood Turbo had been in disappeared. The young lad took Rosie by the hand and said in the most charming voice that a nine-year-old can muster,

"Hey, honeybun, how 'bout you ditch Pops here and run off with me instead?"

He threw in a playful grin for good measure. Turbo facepalmed himself while Rosie just chuckled at the boy, patting him on top of his hat.

"I'm a bit old for you, I believe," she informed him with a smile of her own.

The Swizz jutted his thumb backwards towards Turbo and replied, "If I'm not mistaken, I don't think you have a problem with _age_."

Turbo tapped the kid on the shoulder, prompting him to cooly turn his head around. "Listen, Malarkey, go chase someone else's tail. Sticky's still wandering around here somewhere, go after her."

Swizzle smiled slyly and shrugged. "Ahh, she's cute and all, but I prefer the ones that play hard to get. It's more fun."

"Then go chase Taffyta, she should keep you entertained for the rest of your life."

He never dreamed he would have to stake a claim on his own wife against a minor. Things only got better when, Candlehead skipped along again, who had went to talk to Vanellope and Snowanna when they had entered the field along with Rosie.

"Ooh, is this the queen lady?" she asked with an open-mouthed smile as she looked up at Rosie. "You know we tried to set him up one time, but he wouldn't let us."

Turbo felt hot from embarrassment and Rosie gave him a playful smile.

"Is that so?" she asked the child, wondering at the same time how the little girl's candle stayed lit on her hat.

Candlehead shook her head emphatically. "Yep, sure did. He said he was too old for that stuff."

"Told ya!" Swizzle declared victoriously as he strutted off.

Rosie tried to hide an amused grin behind her hand when she saw the insulted look on her husband's face.

"Why does everyone think I'm _old_ around here?" he asked to no one in particular.

Naturally, Candlehead thought she had to answer. "Welllll, you _were_ bald...except for what little gray hair you had."

Rosie had to turn away for a moment, her shoulders shaking a bit due to keeping her laughter in. Turbo's face turned redder, trying to count slowly in his head to keep from blowing up at the kid's unwelcome (and unappreciated) answer.

"Okay, okay, enough with the story time," Turbo cut in before anything else that was mildly humiliating was said.

Candlehead pouted sadly. "Aww, but I wasn't done yet!"

Rosie could tell Turbo was going to lose his temper if this kept up any longer, so she forced her giggles down and told the little girl, "How 'bout you tell me the rest later when we can have some ice cream?"

That perked her up. "Yay! I loooove ice cream!"

She turned her attention back to Turbo, who had to admit he was a little jealous that Rosie was able to get them to listen to _her_ when he was unable to do the same.

"You can come have some ice cream with us too, Mister Turbo! I have plenty of chocolate!"

Candlehead skipped away with a "la la la la" in her voice, obviously in a cheerful mood.

"Sweet mother of spark plugs," Turbo sighed tiredly when he was _finally_ left alone with Rosie. "They're like ants, you can't rid of them!"

"Well, ants _do_ like sugar," she replied with slight sarcasm in her voice before grabbing his hand and pulling him along for a stroll. "That cute kid with the pumpkin hat said you could take a break, by the way."

He scoffed at that. "Trust me, there's nothing _cute_ about_ any_ of them. Their heads are too big and their features are disproportionate to each other."

Rosie shook her head but she had a small smile on her face regardless. Personally, she found them all to be adorable.

"Which reminds me," Turbo continued as they exited the fields. "You know what that candle girl asked me?"

"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

"She asked me if my eyes glowed in the dark!" he exclaimed, saying it as if he still couldn't believe he had even been asked the question. "How rude is _that_?"

Rosie couldn't help but laugh. "Geez, you _are_ grumpy."

He gave her a withering look. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"Because you _are_," she answered, giving him a crooked smile to show she was just playing with him. "Besides, there's really no reason to get mad at her for pointing a fact out."

Turbo halted as soon as she said that, causing her to lurch back since she had kept on going without him and their hands were still together. She looked back at him with puzzlement etched on her face.

"What did you just say?" he asked her in a disbelieving tone.

Rosie continued to look at him strangely, one of her brows raised up and her eyes narrowed slightly at him. "That there's no reason to get mad at her for pointing out a fact?"

He suddenly looked rather panicked, if not embarrassed. "You mean...they _do?"_

Her confused look turned into one of surprise, followed by a nervous smile. "Oh...you didn't..._know_ that...did you?"

Obviously.

Turbo shut his eyes and dropped Rosie's hand so he could use both of his to cover them, turning away from her at a slight angle.

"Oh my _God_! Why didn't anyone ever tell me that!" he exclaimed dramatically, in absolute horror that the claim was true. "That's em_barrassing_!"

Rosie honestly wasn't sure whether to stay in shock or laugh at the absurdity. "I...thought you knew_."_

"How could I possibly _know_ that?" he asked, feeling extremely self-conscious (and perhaps a bit vain). "It's not like I go staring at myself in mirrors while the lights are off!"

"I thought maybe...they were.._.programmed_ to do that," she suggested weakly. "Honestly, I can't imagine you not knowing something about yourself."

"_You_ didn't know you were pretty until I told you, so what's the difference?" Turbo countered back, though he used a gentler voice when he said it.

She couldn't help but smile at that; he _had_ been the first person to say that to her, and she had legitimately been surprised to hear it.

"I think that's more a matter of opinion, sweet as it is," Rosie told him. "In your case, it's an actual _fact_."

Feeling guilty for causing his minor meltdown, she went and rubbed his back to calm him down. "It's not like they shine _bright_ or anything; it's more like a faint glow. They don't emit light like a flashlight would do."

"Oh good, at least I have _that_ to be thankful for," he remarked dryly, still refusing to look at her. "They're just _normal _creepy cat eyes, if such a thing existed."

Rosie pulled his hands down from his face to hold them both and forced him to turn back towards her. Regrettably, he didn't have much choice but to crack his eyes open at her. He knew he was being a tad ridiculous, as she had looked at them thousands of times before.

"I like your eyes just fine, champ," she assured him sweetly, squeezing his hands in hers and pulling him a little closer to her so she could affectionately bump noses with him. As usual, the gesture made him blush, and this time even more so since she was gazing at him with half-lidded eyes that only served to enhance her adoring expression. It seemed like forever since she'd looked at him like that (it really had only been a couple days) and he momentarily forgot about everything that had been happening to him of late as he looked back at her.

He felt disappointment when she pulled back suddenly and, returning to just holding one hand, spun around and tugged him back into walking with her. Reality settled back into his mind, though he had to admit he didn't feel quite as grouchy or upset as he had been a few minutes ago.

"So where are we going?" Rosie asked bouncily with a pearly white grin.

If memory served him correctly, there was a hot chocolate spring nearby with wild sweet tea flowers growing around that was rather picturesque. He hoped she hadn't seen it yet on her way over to the Candy Corn Fields, but since she had mentioned seeing Candy Cane Forest, he figured that she hadn't even gone in that direction at all. He steered her off at an angle so they'd be going the right way.

"You'll see when we get there."

* * *

Flowers made up of all the different colors of a pastel rainbow grew wild in large scattered bunches, filling a whole meadow. The closer you got to the Ice Cream Mountains, the closer you reached the Hot Chocolate Spring, which was exactly what you thought it would be: a large hot spring cratered into the dark chocolate ground and filled with piping hot chocolate milk, the steam rising into a steady fog that gave the mountainous backdrop a fantasy world feel.

The flowers themselves would have looked like either lilies or daffodils in the Real World, but these had little teacups growing in the centers and the nectar was a small pool of sweet tea. The petals could be broken off to be put in the cups to add extra sugar if the recipient so wished. There were also patches of lollipop grass growing about and a few sprigs of peppermint daisies, which looked like regular ones only these were red-and-white striped.

Turbo felt pretty proud of himself for being able to show off something impressive to Rosie, who was absolutely enamored with the place. Just when she thought she'd seen everything, now she gets shown something like _this_.

"You can pluck the teacups right off the plant," he was telling her as she inspected one of the flowers more closely. "I used to dump the tea nectar out and use it to fill up with the hot chocolate instead."

Rosie cocked a brow and gave him an amused smile. "You and your chocolate."

He grinned bashfully and shrugged his shoulders up, silently saying that he was unable to help himself.

"I used to come here a lot," he confided as the nostalgia grew on him. "The kids didn't come around here too often because it's not the most exciting place to play at, so I'd take a break and sit out here for a spell to watch the clouds."

Turbo's voice slowly trailed off at the end, his eyes growing dull; back at _TurboTime_, he and Rosie had sometimes laid on the hood of his car to look up at the clouds there. It was the one mundane activity from the past that "King Candy" would allow himself to do during his reign.

Rosie sensed he was mentally drifting off, as of course she had the same memory he did, so she yanked at his sleeve to bring him out of it.

"We can come by here more if you want to," she offered sweetly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and peered at him with her big green eyes. "You know, just me and you."

He smiled appreciatively at the thoughtful suggestion, but his eyes still had a hint of sadness in them. It was difficult to be here in _Sugar Rush_, a place that he had once tried to think of a second home yet it never could be due to the circumstances surrounding his attempt to settle in. "King Candy" hadn't been as happy as many people thought he had been and being here only served to remind him of that.

"I really did miss you all those years," Turbo told her quietly as he put his own arms around her small waist. "I'm glad you're here."

Rosie's heart warmed up at the feeling of being wanted, now feeling even sillier that she'd ever doubted that he loved her all that much.

"That makes two of us," she said as she leaned forward to press her lips against his in a kiss.

Turbo felt a flutter in his chest at the touch and he pulled her in a little so he could kiss her back. It felt like a long time since they'd even done_ that_, and it admittedly made him feel like crap that he hadn't been too nice to her as of late. Then again, she hadn't given up on him either so that made him feel a little better about the status of their relationship.

His paranoid and/or cautious nature activated when he heard something that sounded suspiciously like...whispering. He cut the kiss off abruptly (Rosie was rather disappointed) and snapped his head to the side where he had heard it, his brow scrunched down with a deep look of concentration etched in his face.

"You hear that?" he asked as he scanned his eyes across the meadow for any signs of danger. He couldn't imagine what could be lurking there, but then again he himself had lurked there for fifteen years so anything was possible.

He heard it again only this time there was the unmistakable sound of giggling with it. His eyes narrowed when he suddenly saw in the distance the two forms of Jubileena and her twin Citrusella high-tailing it in the opposite direction, laughing their little girlish heads off. He swore he heard one say something about kissing looking like fun. Rosie tried poorly to stifle a laugh and rested her head on Turbo's shoulder as she hugged him to her.

"Those...little..._spies_," he growled out. "Those little color-swapped berry brats have a lot of nerve!"

Rosie really was trying to keep from laughing but it was coming out in bouts of compressed giggles. Her reaction was a big tip off to Turbo that she found this amusing and he didn't understand why in the world she would think that.

"It's _not_ funny."

"Champ, they're _kids_, for cheer's sake," she reminded him, giving him a squeeze. She felt another round of laughter coming and she literally had to bite her tongue in order to suppress it. "They're probably just curious."

He huffed in disagreement. "Yeah, well they can be curious somewhere else. I can't believe they resorted to snooping on me."

_So much for having a moment_, Rosie thought wistfully.

* * *

The arcade opened at last, and it was bedtime for one exhausted racer. They had been out in that cornfield for hours, roping off sections of soon-to-be harvested stalks that would make way for paths in the maze. As Gloyd had said, however, they had covered a lot of ground with all the kids helping in shifts...well except maybe Candlehead, she didn't really "help" as much as just hang out and follow Mister Turbo around yakking his ears off about random things. Regardless, one-fourth of the field was done and it was estimated that it would only be a few more days to do the rest.

Turbo saw the two snoopy sisters from the meadow at another point in the day but they didn't say anything, just looked at him and laughed, to which he rolled his eyes. Kids apparently thought it was hilarious to see grown-ups doing anything slightly mushy. Other than that, the kids were...being surprisingly _nice_ to him. To verify what Vanellope had told him earlier, the _Sugar Rush_-ians all liked to pick on each other but it wasn't mean-spirited, they were the best of friends.

Seeing that kind of camaraderie made him remember how the twins had never wanted to hang out with him, despite his best efforts to friendly. From the day they were plugged in, they never wanted anything to do with him and he never understood why. He sort of wished he had asked them, but it was too late now. Maybe they'd had a good reason; maybe somehow they had foreseen that he was going to be the cause of their undoing and just opted to keep their distance.

A lot of good _that_ did.

Still, he had to wonder _why_ the kids were, as annoying as they may be, letting him into their little private personal world like this. True, he hadn't been mean to any of them when he had been the king, heck, he never even so much as held a five-minute conversation with one before he made up an excuse to either go back to the castle or do some "royal errand". He had, however, brainwashed them into forgetting their true selves and their rightful ruler, making them believe she was a criminal and allowing them to bully her. That was reason enough to hate his guts. And he certainly didn't understand why Vanellope herself was being so forgiving, she was quite a puzzle to him. It made him dizzy trying to understand it so he just gave up trying.

Gloyd had been one of the winners in the roster race the previous night so he was going to be gone all day, much to Turbo's relief. He could have uninterrupted sleep and not have to worry about the little sneak performing pranks on him during his free time. His muscles ached and cramped, the hot shower giving him temporary relief. He wished Rosie had stuck around for bedtime so she could give him a back rub, something she used to do back when he was still racing; being the star of the most popular game came at a price, as you were bound to not catch any breaks between games, and it really wears on the body after a while.

Turbo rolled over on his side in the little bed, pulling the sheets over him to snuggle into. It _was_ a small bed but it wasn't uncomfortable and just big enough for him to maybe roll on his side the other way without falling off. Certainly not big enough for two people. The curtains were closed so it was dark in the room and the silence of the house really crept up on him. He sighed, wondering if Rosie had gone to bed yet and if she was having trouble going to sleep. He had missed her considerably when she had left from her visit and if he hadn't been kept busy the rest of the day, he might have stayed depressed about her leaving.

But she'd come back tomorrow, Turbo had to remind himself as he closed his eyes and tried again to sleep. She had promised before he left to come here that she'd visit everyday and she wasn't one to break a promise. He only had her word to go on and her word was good as gold in his book, so with that in mind he finally managed to get a good day's sleep.


	19. Making Peace

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Nineteen**

He wasn't in bed anymore; he didn't remember crawling out of it and he certainly didn't remember coming _here_. Heavy fog clouded his already limited vision due to the dark environment, the only light source being a pale decaying crescent moon. When he looked up at it, he saw that pieces of the moon were crumbling off at the tips, shooting down into the sky like shooting stars. Swirls of mist circled around his feet like ghostly snakes and, for a moment, he imagined them being _real _snakes.

Had he been sleepwalking? Turbo had never known himself to do it before but it was the only explanation he had for being here. He wracked his brain to think of what game he could have wandered into. _House of the Dead_ was the only one that he could think of right away with a spooky setting, and the memory of zombie hunters Rogan and Agent G bullying him in _BurgerTime_ came to him. If that was the case, he certainly didn't want to be here any longer than he needed to be. The idea of getting accidentally mistaken for a zombie and getting shot at was not his idea of fun. Actually, who said it had to be an accident? They could easily shoot him on _purpose_.

Not to mention, he wasn't overly fond of the vision he had of getting eaten alive by zombies either. At least getting shot would be a faster, less painful way to go.

Turbo stumbled around in the dark, being careful not to trip on anything. He stubbed his toe against a hard surface, and as he grabbed his foot to ease the pain, the fog rolled back just enough for him to see what the object was.

A tombstone.

How turbo-freakin-_tastic,_ he was in a cemetery. What better place for him to get killed in? Why in the world of all the games in the arcade did he have to sleepwalk to one that had a cemetery in it? Was his subconscious trying to tell him that he was better off dead? Or was this some cruel reminder to himself that everyone else wanted him to be that way? Or perhaps it was because he had come so close to death many times in his life?

Chills went down his spine and Turbo decided he didn't want to stick around here anymore. Unfortunately, he didn't know what direction the exit was.

The fog rolled back further and the pale moonlight illuminated more tombstones ahead of him. It was an eerie sight and Turbo wasn't very comfortable trekking over dead bodies but he didn't have much choice. He weaved around the stones, being careful where he stepped.

_KAW!_

A raven flew out of nowhere right in front of him, making him jump back several paces, and the black ominous bird disappeared into the outer realms of the graveyard. His heart racing and his nerves on edge even more than they were already, Turbo decided not to waste anymore time being here and quickened his pace, hoping he was going in the right direction.

After about a minute, something in the distance made him stop dead (_wrong choice of word there, perhaps)_ in his tracks. It looked to be a figure dressed in black, looming silently as if keeping watch over the poor souls that were no longer among the living. Turbo could not see his face as it was covered with a hood and he imagined the face being that of a skeleton.

_Please don't see me, please don't see me..._

In the time it takes to blink an eye, the mysterious figure was suddenly right in front of him, an inky black hole where a face should have been. Turbo naturally would have wanted to run away but he found his feet unable to move, as if they had stepped into cement that had quickly dried. The supernatural figure breathed quietly, staring down at him (if it had eyes to stare with, that is) menacingly. The racer stared back, his glowing eyes shining bright with fear yet he wasn't sure exactly what there was to be afraid of.

The hooded being did not speak, yet slowly raised an arm up and pointed to the side of them. Turbo followed the movement and saw a large pit in the ground. As if in a trance, he found himself unable to resist investigating.

It was an empty grave.

He lifted his head back towards the figure and it pointed its gloved hand again towards the patch of fog that covered the grave marker. As if by magic, the mist swirled away and the words on the tombstone became visible to him. In the two seconds in took for him to read it, all his insides clenched up in sheer horror and he forced himself to keep from fainting.

_Here Lies The Greatest Criminal Of Our Time_

_TURBO_

_1977-2013_

_May He Rest In Eternal Turmoil_

Before he could turn and run for his life, he felt someone slap him hard on the back and he found himself tumbling forward into the deep grave. All his senses kicking in, he dug his fingers into the cold earth in an attempt to keep from falling all the way and a long root that had extended from a nearby tree was available for him to hang onto.

His heart was beating in his throat and sweat was dripping off of him. He tried to brace his feet against the dirt wall to try and climb back up but he kept losing traction and slipping. He looked up and saw to his terror the hooded figure now standing high above him. Then, slowly, it reached a hand up and pulled back his hood, revealing his face. Turbo's eyes widened in fear when he saw who it was.

It was Rocky, the playable driver from _RoadBlasters._

He was a mess due to having been run over multiple times by Turbo when he had crashed the game back in 1987, his face covered in dirt and blood and maybe even the faint mark of a tire track. Otherwise, his rugged handsome looks were intact and he smiled evilly down at the one who had been responsible for his game getting unplugged.

"We meet again, it seems," he purred darkly.

"How...how are you _here_?" asked the racer, still gripping to the root for dear life. "You're _dead!"_

"No thanks to _you,"_ Rocky replied snidely, running a hand through his hair in a prissy manner like he used to do when he was alive. "You injured me so much that I was unable to leave _RoadBlasters_ before it's unplugging."

_This isn't happening! This has to be a dream! Wake up, wake up!_

"One of the last things you said to me was that you were going to ride on my ashes," Rocky continued and the memory of _RoadBlasters_ last minutes of existence entered Turbo's mind. The dead driver smirked down at him.

"Well...can't have ashes without _fire_."

A bright red-orange glow of light instantly filled the tomb and Turbo fearfully looked down further into the grave. A coffin that had been lying at the bottom had burst open and flames leaped out of it, dancing their way upwards towards the terrified racer.

_FIRE. PAIN. DEATH._

He willed his legs and arms to move, trying desperately to crawl out of the deathtrap before he got burned alive (again), but no matter what he did he kept slipping down slowly into the grave. A spark of flame got his leg and he winced, forcing himself to try harder to escape.

_"Tuuuurrrrrboooo...cooooome jooooiiinnn ussss..."_

Turbo jerked his head back down and nearly had a heart attack when he saw the black charred bodies of Ted and Teddy both crawling out of the firey coffin, slowly spider-walking their way up towards him. One grabbed his leg and tried to pull him down and Turbo kicked wildly at him.

"_Jooiinnn ussss.."_

Turbo kicked the groping hands away from his legs and the sound of Rocky's roaring laugh from above him wormed into his ears. This was madness, insanity!

"I'm sorry!" Turbo cried out, twisting his head back and forth between his three ghosts. "I'm sorry I killed you guys! I shouldn't have blamed you all for my selfish pride, or for ruining my life when it was my choice."

He felt his grip loosening and the hands below him were steadily tugging him down further.

"I'm sorry! I really am, _please don't kill me!"_

He felt the root he was hanging onto start to crack under his weight. If it wasn't the twins trying to pull him down that would do him in, it would be the cursed root. Turbo squinted his eyes shut, not wanting to visually witness his own demise.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

* * *

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

"Turbo! Get down from there!"

He refused to open his eyes and tightened his grip when he felt a hand pull at his pajama pants. "Go away, leave me alone!"

"TURBO!_"_

The voice sounded familiar but it was one that shouldn't have been in the grave with him. He popped his eyes open and saw that he was no longer hanging on to the root, but instead brown taffy curtains. Orange walls surrounded him and he realized that he was back in Gloyd's guest room. Somehow he had gotten out of bed and had crawled up the curtains and was presently hanging on to those.

The shock and relief at being suddenly in a safe zone made his fingers slip and he fell to the floor, the thick carpet cushioning his landing. Gloyd and Vanellope were in front of him, both of them wearing similar looks of concern.

"Did you have a nightmare?" the glitchy president asked of him as he rubbed his backside where he had landed. She had come to visit to ask Gloyd how things were going with his houseguest when they'd heard Turbo having a freak-out in his room.

"No, I just decided to take up curtain-climbing to get an aeriel view of the room," Turbo snipped back, only it came it out not as snippy as he intended it too and instead just tired sounding.

"I wish _I_ performed stunts when _I_ dreamed," commented Gloyd, earning a punch and a glare from Vanellope to wordlessly tell him to shut up.

"At least you didn't _eat_ the curtains like Stinkbrain did one time," Vanellope joked lightly, shaking her head at the memory of catching him in the act. "What a moron."

Stinkbrain, who was...oh yeah, that was her usual nickname for Wreck-It Ralph. Speaking of him, Turbo wondered how the large-fisted wrecker felt about him being in _Sugar Rush_ again. Seeing as how the halitosis victim hadn't come by to threaten him, he assumed that perhaps Vanellope had already told him something.

(In reality, not that he knew any of this, Ralph had thought it hilarious that all the _Sugar Rush_-ians were driving Turbo bananas and worked to death, as related to him by Vanellope when they had hung out earlier. And if you asked Ralph, he would admit that he was enjoying his break from having to play "big brother" with all the kids.)

Even though the nightmare was slowly fading from his mind, he was still shaken up over it. And yet, somehow...he strangely felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Maybe since he had apologized to the ghosts, they would stay away from him. Maybe he'd made peace and he could finally bury his own hatchet.

"You want some warm milk or somethin'?" Gloyd asked him, snapping his from his thoughts.

It only partially aggravated him to hear the request, thinking that the boy was only asking because he either felt sorry for him for having a nightmare or was just being a smart aleck about it. However, judging by his unusually solemn look, Turbo decided he was only asking to be nice.

So he took the milk.

* * *

"Niiiice, Skittles. Niiiiice, pony."

Turbo was naturally on his guard when the uni-candy-corn had showed up to survey what everyone was doing in his field. The racer had a few sugar cubes in his open palm, which was embarrassingly trembling out of fear that the creature was going to chomp his hand off. Felix was there to supervise, not being able to disregard his friend's pleading when the handyman had come to visit.

"Okay, Fix-It, the second my hand gets bitten off, you do your stuff," the racer instructed him firmly. "And don't gag or get queasy at the bloodshed."

"He's not going to bite you, worrywart," Felix assured him with an amused smile.

"Easy for you to say; he likes _you_ just fine."

Skittles sniffed the welcoming hand bearing treats, his large nostrils flaring with interest. Turbo was ready to jump back at any second just in case this didn't work and the beast decided to become suddenly aggressive. Felix was trying not to laugh so he ended up displaying a rather goofy grin as he watched this.

Then, much to Turbo's surprise, a large hot pink tongue shot out and slurped the sugar treats right out of his hand and they disappeared into Skittles' mouth, his jaws moving in a chewing motion to crunch the cubes into smaller crystals.

And that's how Skittles became a Turbo fan.

The demeanor in the horse's behavior changed almost immediately, and he started nickering softly while pressing his velvety nose against Turbo's empty hand as if wanting some more goodies from him. The racer found himself...well..._smiling_ at the sudden display of puppy-like affection.

"Huh, you're not so mean and scary after all," he said to Skittles, who had proceeded to lick any traces of sugar off his hand and the racer reached his free hand up to rub him between the ears.

"See, I told you he was sweet," Felix told him as he gave the now friendly equine a few pats.

"Yeah, after you _buy_ his love."

Skittles lifted his head up to Turbo's level and slurped his face from the chin up, effectively covering him in wet sticky drool. He also got a good whiff of the pony's fruity breath, which wasn't bad but it was just so sickeningly sweet and hot that it was gag-inducing.

"Ugh, horse slobber!" Turbo whined in disgust, spitting to the side of him.

Felix started cracking up, holding his sides from laughing. "You got kissed by a uni-candy-corn!"

"It's the worst kiss I've ever had, that's for sure."

When Skittles licked him again, Turbo backed up and put his hands up in front of him defensively. "Okay, _okay_, we're _friends_ now. Just stop licking me!"

The pink cuddle monster turned and trotted off in search of someone that would give him more sugar cubes, while Turbo motioned for Felix to follow him back to Gloyd's so he could rinse the spit off his face.

"If anyone had ever told me I'd be getting slobbered on by a pink horse with a stupid piece of candy corn on its head for a horn, I would've said they'd been smokin' too many mushrooms at Mario's."

Felix snickered behind a gloved hand. "Why do they call him Skittles anyway?"

"That's what his breath smells like," Turbo answered, shuddering a bit when he suddenly remembered the scent clogging up his nostrils. "Hey, you haven't seen Rosie today by any chance, have you?"

The handyman scratched his head, his hat starting to slide off the side of his head as he did so, and his face screwed up in concentration. "Oh, where did I see her at? She was going _some_where..."

He snapped his fingers when he remembered and grinned. "Oh! She went to see a Street Fighter match with those other two girls, the ones that she used to cheer with?"

Turbo stared hard at him with narrowed eyes. "_Summer_ and _Raven_?" he growled. "She actually _went_ somewhere with those two?"

He couldn't help feeling insanely jealous. What the hell, they barely got along with Rosie back in the day, never including her in any of their outings and poking fun at her at times. And now she's off spending time with _them_ when she could be-

"Oh they've been getting along much better since you knew them," Felix told him as they walked into Gloyd's pumpkin house. "They had started being nicer and hanging out with her. In fact, if not for them, she would've resorted to just living in the Station after their game got unplugged, since she was...well...still out of sorts about _you_ being gone."

Turbo let that sink in as he cleaned himself of uni-candy-corn drool. Okay, he supposed it was possible that they had changed, but it was still hard to think of them as anything but idiotic bimbos. Then he thought to himself that he was pretty much doing what everybody else was doing to _him_. Remembering him for all the shit he had done and not even giving him a chance to prove himself otherwise.

It still made him sad that Rosie had went off to do something fun without him, even though it wasn't like he was allowed to go into that particular game anyway. He might as well be happy that _one_ of them could go off and enjoy themselves. He realized he was thinking like one of those annoying clingy guys that he had been trying to avoid becoming but right now he really didn't care admitting that he missed his own wife.

Ahhhh, he was such a sap sometimes.

* * *

"OW!"

"Too hard?"

"You're hurting me!"

"Sorry...," was the sheepish answer. "Here, let's try it _this_ way."

"Owwww owwww...right there, right there, right _there_." A pause as the feeling kicked in full force. "...owwww, _GOD!_"

"Does it feel any better yet?"

"Not really but keep going, shit shit damn owww..." The pain was finally taken over by some extreme pleasure. "ahhhhh...okay that's better..."

"I swear, you are the _biggest_ baby when it comes to back rubs, champ."

Turbo was sitting backwards away from Rosie on his borrowed bed while she tried to knead the knots out of his back, and he was (as usual) acting as if she was killing him. Of course he always felt turbo-tastic by the time she was done, all the cramps and tense muscles worked out of him so he could relax.

"I never knew juveniles could be such slave drivers," Turbo commented as she put pressure in her spaced out fingers and walked them from between his shoulder blades and on down his back, making him arch up a little and grimace slightly at the pain-pleasure. "No offense, but I'm glad we can't procreate."

Rosie rolled her eyes and smiled lazily. "Yeah, I think we would've had our own herd by now if _that_ could happen."

He cringed at the thought. "Don't even joke."

"But babies are _sooooo_ cuuuute," she said in a cooing voice, just teasing him of course.

"Yeah until they need their diapers changed or they throw up on you or they wake you up every two hours."

"You know, I seem to recall you used to _like_ them."

Turbo couldn't imagine why he would ever think such a preposterous thing. "You sure that wasn't _Fix-It? _I can imagine _him_ going ga-ga over a baby_."_

"You certainly never complained about them back then like you're doing _now_," she pointed out, rubbing circles into his mid back area on either side of his spine. "The only time I ever _did_ hear you gripe about them was when a really young or inexperienced player got a hold of your controls."

"Because they couldn't keep me on the _road. _It's not fun to crash every ten seconds, even though it didn't hurt. You're lucky you were an NPC and didn't have to worry about all that."

Rosie hit another knot and he started whining again until she got it worked out. She moved back up to his neck and shoulders to give his back a rest from all the work she was giving it.

"I heard you hung out with Summer and Raven," he mentioned casually, his shoulders relaxed as she kneaded them. "I didn't think you liked them."

She shrugged. "They're not that bad anymore. They said they'd talk to Ken and Ryu about letting you come visit so we can the matches like we used to do."

"_They_ said that?" he asked with a lilt of surprise in his voice.

"Mmm-hmmm."

Huh. He guessed they really _had_ changed from when he first met them.

"So what did you today besides cramp your back up?"

Turbo winced when she squeezed a little too hard in one spot between his shoulder and neck, so she moved her hands up to give his head and temples a quick rub before moving back down to his back.

"I...uh...had another dream about the twins," he told her quietly.

Rosie had heard from Vanellope about how he'd had a vivid nightmare but she didn't know what it was about until now. She didn't tell Turbo she knew about it because she figured he'd get mad at the little president for spreading his business.

"Oh?" she asked in a way to coax him into telling her about it.

"That Rocky guy was there this time," Turbo continued as bits and pieces of the dream came back to him. "What's funny is I'm not really all that bothered about it anymore. I kind of apologized in it for...well, you know."

That was probably the closest thing to closure he was ever going to get. Rosie wrapped her arms around him in a backwards hug, her head resting on his shoulder so her face would be next to his and gave him a squeeze. He lightly rubbed her arms with a hand and laid back against her to rest.

"Love ya," she told him before giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Love ya too," he smiled, snuggling his head against hers.

They didn't have to bring up the murders anymore after that.


	20. Melting

_Might be until Monday before I get to update again, I'm going out of town but will work on this as much as possible while I'm gone. Sorry! _

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Twenty**

**_Day Five of Turbo's "Imprisonment" in Sugar Rush..._**

Something was sitting on his chest.

Turbo's slumber was slowly ruined as the reality of the situation grew. At first, he only just cracked his eyes open and then they widened up when he saw the small flicker of fire floating above him glowing in the otherwise dark room.

A scream ripped out of his throat before he could stop himself. What was odd was that the fire _itself_ screamed and Turbo jerked his arms up to forcefully shove whoever or _what_ever was sitting on him off of his chest and then wildly scrambled out of bed. He thought in the back of his mind that he had been doing a lot of falling out of bed lately as he made a mad dash for the light switch on the wall by the door.

Now that the lights were on and he could see, Turbo's narrowed yellow eyes pierced the oversized green ones that were looking at him from underneath a brown and pink cupcake hat, the owner of which had repositioned herself in the middle of the bed.

"Wow, your eyes really_ do_ glow in the dark!" Candlehead exclaimed with amazement.

He smacked the front of his face in frustration.

"What the _hell_ are you doing in here?" Turbo demanded angrily.

When her jaw dropped upon hearing the not-so-kid-friendly curse, Turbo glared even harder.

"That's right, I _cussed_," he snidely stated, his arms crossed in front of him. "And if you don't explain yourself, you'll be hearing a lot _more_."

Candlehead apparently had the attention span of a goldfish cracker and she pulled her mouth back into an exaggerated grin, jumping off the bed to go stand in front of her ex-king.

"You're coming with me to the Ice Cream Mountains!"

Turbo simply stared at her with an unblinking look of confused annoyance. Candlehead's mouth was wide open in an anticipated smile, innocently oblivious to the man's feelings on this sudden announcement.

"You want me to_ what _now?" he asked her dryly, the lack of enthusiasm apparent.

"Go to the Ice Cream Mountains with me!" the green-haired girl repeated with her hands raised high above her head as she hopped excitedly in place. "We need to get some more ice cream for the Anniversary Party coming up soon!"

Anniversary Party...he remembered those, getting chocolate cake and ice cream and other such gifts from the various racers and NPC's in _Sugar Rush_. He would throw a large party but he would notably keep his distance from the children while they had their fun. If he remembered correctly, the party should be coming up on...

He counted up in his head that the last day of his two-week stint was going to be the day of the party. Suspiciously, he wondered if that's why Rosie had sentenced him to that certain amount of time in the first place, no doubt suggested to her by Vanellope. He felt tricked somehow and that only made him_ more_ peeved.

"Oh, is that so?" Turbo asked the bubbly child with a fake smile. "And how is it that I got nominated to join you on this important mission?"

"Vanellope said you had to," she informed him gleefully and his smile developed into a scowl.

"Why do _I _have to?" he wanted to know, pointing at himself with both thumbs. "Why can't one of your little friends go with you?"

"Are you _nuts_?" She crossed her eyes, stuck her tongue out and twirled a horizontal finger beside her ear in the "crazy" gesture. "I need adult supervision up there! What if I get my kart stuck in a snow drift, or if an avalanche happens?"

Turbo's breath hissed out slowly between clenched teeth, his eyes shut as he tried to keep his temper in check. Okay, so if the glitch herself had said that he had to go, it was obviously a royal decree. And regardless of how he felt about being ordered around by a pint-sized imp, he wasn't in the mood to make things more difficult just because he didn't want to be alone with the resident blabbermouth fetching ice cream.

"Okay..."

She inhaled deeply to start shouting about how excited she was to go on a trip but Turbo threw his hand up in a "stop" gesture, causing her to pause in mid-gasp.

"_But..._you are not going to annoy me with constant talking, singing, humming, whistling, steering wheel tapping, or anything else that you think would be considered _fun_," he insisted, counting off the list on his fingers. "Understand?"

He rolled his eyes when she continued to stay in her frozen mid-gasp position, her face starting to turn red from lack of oxygen. "You can _breathe_."

She blew out a hard breath and panted for a while to get air back into her lungs. Turbo had a bad feeling this was going to be a loooong trip.

* * *

Candlehead's kart, the Ice Screamer, was one of the heavier karts in the whole game and it certainly showed when trying to get it up the mountainside. A few times, Turbo had reluctantly been forced to get behind it to give it an extra boost when one of the tires got stuck in some slush. It was freezing up there and he cursed himself for not thinking to ask around for a coat. Teeth chattering and his arms hugging him in a feeble attempt to get warm, he kept his eyes frozen on the little flame that somehow managed to stay lit on Candlehead's hat.

At last, he told himself he was being ridiculous with this pyrophobia of his and stuck his palms out towards the fire in order to get even the tiniest amount of heat radiating off of it. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing and he eventually felt some life creeping back into his fingers.

"How much further do we have to go?" Turbo asked grumpily after about an hour of driving.

"If you want _chocolate_, we have to go to the very top," Candlehead informed him in such a cheerful manner that it almost made her passenger want to abandon ship and scream curses at the top of his lungs. "Vanilla's on the bottom, then Rocky Road, then Cookies-and-Cream, then-"

"All _right_, I understand!" he interrupted her harshly, rubbing his palms together quickly to try and help generate some more heat. "Doesn't this thing go any faster?"

As if he had just spoken the magic words for things to go from bad to worse, the kart suddenly started slowing down until it at last came to a stop. The purring of the engine died down into a quiet hum and then gradually nothing was to be heard. Turbo mentally punched himself in the face for opening his big mouth and then sneered down at the candle-topped driver as she tried to helplessly stomp on the gas pedal.

Candlehead hesitantly turned her head back with a large nervous grin on her face and her eyes were filled with anxiety, her hands fiddling with the steering wheel aimlessly.

"Um...I _may_ have forgotten to..." She gulped, her voice getting smaller as she talked. "Um...fill up the syrup tank?"

Sugar Rush didn't have gasoline...instead the karts ran on a variety of syrups: chocolate, maple, honey, or one of the many fruit flavored ones. Turbo's already angry eyes only narrowed into an even angrier appearance, his teeth gritted and his fists clenching the sides of the kart.

"You...forgot...to _what_?" he said, forcing each word out slowly and as quietly as possible. If he hadn't been concerned about starting an avalanche, he would have screamed it at her. "How...is that..._possible_?"

She shrugged helplessly and Turbo was so _livid_ he couldn't even look at her anymore. He jumped off the back of the kart and ranted under his breath for a good five minutes, pacing back and forth in the Rocky Road slush that they were surrounded by, kicking at a few of the chocolate chunks that were showing through. Finally he stopped and he stormed back over to the little girl who was still sitting unusually quiet in her seat.

"Out of all you kids, I get stuck with the one too stupid to remember to fill up her own syrup tank," he muttered in a low voice, his teeth still clenched together. He'd rather be up here with Gloyd slamming ice cream snowballs at him, Crumbelina checking herself in the mirror, or even Taffyta doing nothing but bitch at him for anything she could think of. At least, _they_ wouldn't have run out of fuel.

With anyone else, that comment would have hurt their feelings. Candlehead was...well, not the brightest candle on the cake, so she didn't seem to process the statement to its full intent.

"Sorry!" she piped up. "It could've happened to _anyone_!"

"Yeah, anyone dumb enough to not check their bells and whistles," he mumbled some more and he crossed his arms again as the chill wind began to blow.

She cocked her head to the side in confusion. "The Ice Screamer doesn't have bells and whistles on it."

Turbo had to walk away again, not believing the situation he was in.

"This is just _turbo-tastic_!" he called sarcastically out to no one in particular. "I'm stuck in the freakin' Ice Cream Mountains with a kart that doesn't work and a kid with the brains of _three jellybeans_!"

With that, he began to walk off downhill in the direction that they had come from. Candlehead watched him for a few seconds then called out,

_"Hey! _Where are you_ going_!"

"Away from _here_!" was the grouchy answer. "You can stay up here and freeze to death if you want."

"But..what about my kart!" she hollered back in concern. "What if someone steals it?"

Turbo stopped and turned his head to the side only enough for her to see one of his glowing eyes.

"No one's going to_ steal_ your stupid kart! There's no one up here except _us!_ Besides, it's out of _syrup_, remember?"

He had a point but she still didn't feel comfortable leaving it up here in the mountains all by itself. She sighed and patted the steering wheel sadly before hopping out and running after him.

"Wait, don't leave me up here!"

**Thirty Minutes Later**

Turbo was about to really lose his mind. The flame on Candlehead's hat had been blown off by a strong gust of wind and she'd been whining and sniveling about it for the last fifteen minutes. She was about three feet behind him so it wasn't like he could really tune her out either. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He spun around to face her, his eyes glowing madly and hissed,

"Will you shut _up_ already_? _You're driving me _nuts_!"

She blinked and stared at him like he was a crazy person then asked, "My feet hurt, can we sit down?"

"No, we are _not_ sitting down!" he growled, his fists clenched at his sides. "I want to get down from here ASAP!"

Candlehead started picking her feet up one at a time as if to try and relieve some of the pressure from them, and Turbo thought that if he didn't at least let her rest then she would start complaining about _that_. Not wanting to hear anymore whining, he pointed firmly at a giant pink sprinkle that was supposed to be part of the landscape, wordlessly instructing her to sit on it.

She did as she was told and rubbed her legs with her hands to soothe the muscles. Turbo figured he might as well sit down too so he waved a hand at her to scoot down further so he wouldn't have to sit close to her. He crossed his arms around himself and slouched on the giant sprinkle, turning slightly away from the child and staring out ahead of him at the outward view of _Sugar Rush _with a set of still glowing mad eyes.

"I bet you wouldn't be mad if you were stuck up here with Missus Turbo," Candlehead pouted softly.

His eyes flashed and he snapped his head back at her. "If I were to come up with _Missus Turbo_, _I _would have been the one driving and _I_ would have been smart enough to check all my fuel, so _this_ wouldn't have happened."

He opened his arms up to their full extent and waved around him to demonstrate that they wouldn't be stuck in the mountains if he'd been in charge. Candlehead hung her head down sadly.

"I said I was _sorry," _she said quietly.

_"_Well, that just makes everything hunky-dory,_ doesn't it!"_

Turbo seethed for a few more minutes, trying to ignore the chill in his bones. He heard sniffling coming from his left and he turned to see that Candlehead was wiping her face of the sugary tears that had started flowing down her cheeks. Not being completely made of stone, the adult of the two felt a pang of guilt at being responsible for making her cry.

"Will you stop that? Your face is gonna freeze."

"What do _you_ care?" she asked in a trembly voice. "You're a big meanie."

It was a childish insult, but it seemed to be enough to make him soften up some. She was right, he _was_ being pretty hard on her. She was only nine and a not overly bright one at that, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that she would have overlooked checking the syrup tank before going off on a big adventure.

"Sorry," he begrudgingly stated, shifting his weight to get more comfortable. Sprinkles aren't the cushiest of seats. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a fan of kids."

"Why?"

For such a simple question, it seemed to bother him and that only aggravated him more.

"I just _don't,_ that's why."

Candlehead wiped her nose with the sleeve of her pink jacket, making Turbo cringe in disgust and look away again.

"You _have_ to have a reason," she pressed him.

He sighed in annoyance, his breath showing as fog in the cold air. It took him a few moments to respond, collecting his thoughts and thinking of how to word it to where she would understand.

"Once upon a time, there was this really cool guy who was the star of the best game ever made."

"Was the cool guy _you_?"

"Do you want to hear the story or not?"

Candlehead shrank back and put her hands in her lap quietly.

"Anyway," Turbo continued, his eyes glazing over a bit as he spoke. "All the kids liked playing his game and he became really popular as a result. They all loved him and he thought he'd never have to worry about losing his job because...well, popular games don't get unplugged unless there's a technical issue."

_"Yay, I won again!"_

_"I'm _never_ gonna quit playing this game!"_

_"TurboTime's the best!"_

_"It's my favorite!"_

_"Turbo's the coolest!"_

_"Hurry up, we want to play next!"_

_"I wish I had enough quarters to play all day!"_

It was a bittersweet memory, recalling all the happy smiles on the kids' faces as they won first place, getting excited watching the little 8-bit pixellated avatar taking his place at the top of the trophy stand and declaring his all too familiar catchphrase. A lot of the kids liked to repeat it back which had always made him chuckle.

He had a lot of regulars that played almost every day or at least every time they came in, and he got to know a few of their names as a result, slowly getting attached to them. He remembered his usual highest scorer was a shrimpy orange-haired kid with big baby blue eyes and face full of freckles named Henry. He probably had kids of his own by now.

He felt his eyes water up but he shook his head to make himself quit. He wasn't even really talking to Candlehead anymore, it was mostly to himself.

"Then one day, this new game showed up and it was better than his in every way. Better graphics, music, gameplay, _everything_. And all the kids forgot about the guy and they didn't want to play his game anymore. They all abandoned him to go play with the new one because it was _better_. And he got really sad because there was a chance that his game would get unplugged since it wasn't popular anymore."

Turbo's voice got softer the more he spoke, the sadness replacing the anger he initially felt. It had felt horrible watching everyone slowly quit playing his game and move on to bigger, better things. He had felt so...worthless. Unloved. Betrayed.

"But the kids didn't care about that, they just wanted to have their fun. They left him high and dry, and it wasn't too long before nobody played his game at all. After that, he decided that if that's how kids were going to be, then he didn't want to be friends with any of them anymore."

He didn't have anymore to say about the subject and sat there quietly, his head down and his eyes closed to the world as he remembered the past. A few seconds ticked by and he felt a tiny pair of arms hug him from the left. Turbo looked down and saw Candlehead, who he had almost forgotten was sitting beside him, looking at him with big sympathetic eyes.

"_I_ would've kept playing your game if I had been a _real_ kid," she said quietly. "Everybody deserves to feel wanted."

She said it with such honest innocence that he felt his heart warm up and he had to turn his face away to wick a tear from the corner of his eye.

"Thanks," he whispered. "Even though I'm not sure why any of you are being nice to me."

"Why wouldn't we be nice to you?" she asked curiously.

"Gee, maybe because I erased all your memories, brainwashed you into thinking I was your king, and made you forget your real ruler?"

She didn't comment right away then finally said, "Well...when you were King Candy, we all thought you were this nice old guy. Even if you didn't want to hang out with us, we still liked you. When the game reset, we even told Vanellope that you were never mean to us.

"Besides, we're _kids," _she pointed out. "Kids forgive stuff easier than grown-ups do."

Obviously. Here he was with someone that was a victim of his code tampering and being sweet to him, and out there in Game Central Station was a large population of folks that hated his guts when he didn't even do anything to _them_. Maybe...maybe kids weren't all that bad. After all, they never did anything to him to deserve his nasty behavior.

He cleared his throat and stood up, stretching his back out as he did so.

"All right, kiddo, let's go get some syrup for your kart."

Candlehead brightened up and jumped to her feet. "Really?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, yeah, otherwise we'll never get to the top later and get that chocolate ice cream. Of course, we're not walking back up here, we're enlisting some help on the trip back."

"I really am sorry about running on empty."

A small smile spread on Turbo's face and he waved the comment off. "It could've happened to anyone."

He started walking off without her and he heard her trotting after him, then felt her little hand grab his sleeve so that she could keep up with his faster pace. He didn't shrug her off.


	21. Party Talk

_Finally, here it is! Thanks for being patient with me, you're all turbo-tastic!_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Turbo was thinking that if he ever saw ice cream again, it would be too soon. He didn't even care that there was chocolate readily available. With the added help of Snowanna and Nougetsia, they had been able to get more of the frozen dessert down the mountain and into the giant walk-in freezer that Candlehead kept at her cupcake house. She liked to have her own stash so she could make ice cream cakes, is why she owned one.

Candlehead's floor plan was about the same as Gloyd's only her house was a little bigger since she had that freezer, and she had lots of pinks, greens, and polka dots as the décor theme. Turbo felt out of place to be in such a girly house since he had grown accustomed to Gloyd's more masculine use of color.

"You're coming to my and Adora's ice skating party day after tomorrow, aren't you?" Nougetsia was asking him as she threw in the last tub of Cookies-and-Cream into the freezer.

This was the first _he'd_ heard of it.

"Ice skating party?" Turbo parroted in confusion from his seat at Candlehead's round pink table in her kitchen.

"Duh, we only have one every other Saturday," she replied with a good-humored eye roll.

He looked skeptical. "Since _when_?"

"Since _always_," inserted Snowanna with a cocked brow, resting one hand on her hip in her typical sassy manner. "Not that you would've known about that since you never wanted to hang out with us, King Recluse."

_Ouch_.

He must have looked hurt by the comment because the dark-skinned girl softened her facial expression and began trying to reword what she said.

"I mean, you weren't exactly social so we didn't bother inviting you. We didn't think you'd come anyway."

Probably not. He'd been too concerned with his own damn self to worry about making friends…especially with _children_. The more time he spent with them though, the more Turbo found himself actually_ regretting_ that he hadn't done this before. They really weren't that bad of a group, and they acted more mature than he'd initially given them credit for…not to mention they were being _nice_ to him. In fact, they were making him feel more welcome than he had ever felt over at _TurboTime_.

This must be how a "home" was supposed to feel like. Maybe Rosie had been onto something when she was trying to explain how homes worked to him last week when he'd freaked out on her over that nightmare he'd had.

Candlehead shattered his moment of reflection when she bounced in his lap to sit on him, issuing a small grunt of pain from him due to the sudden added weight.

"But you're invited _now_!" she exclaimed with a huge grin. "You want a soda?"

"Sure," he squeaked out, still in pain from her jumping on him like that. He felt instant relief when she slid off of him to go bounce to her refrigerator.

"We even made you a pair of skates!" Nougetsia announced happily as she and Snowanna each took a seat at the table. "Or, rather, Crumbelina did. She's a designer, you know."

He…_didn't_ know that. To think, he lived here for fifteen years and wound up not knowing very much.

"Well, that explains why she randomly measured my boot a few days ago-_OOF_!"

Candlehead jumped in his lap again with her arms full of soda bottles, sliding two over to her peers and then popping the other two for herself and Turbo.

"Here ya go!"

He gently scooted her down to where she'd be sitting on his knee instead of his lap before saying, "That's really sweet, girls, but I'm afraid I've got two left feet."

"You _do_?" the cupcake-topped girl gasped in shock, bending over slightly in order to visually inspect his feet. Turbo pulled her by the back of her jacket to straighten her up, and the other two girls tried to hide a snicker. It wasn't uncommon for them to laugh at something Candlehead did or said behind her back or, heck, even if in _front_ of her since she didn't usually get what the joke was.

"I _mean_ I'm a total klutz," he rephrased his earlier statement for the misunderstood child's benefit. "I'll kill myself if I go out there."

Snowanna waved him off. "Nah, we'll help you, it's easy. Besides, you can't be any worse than Rancis." She shook her head at that. "Talk about no rhythm."

"Miss Rosie's coming," Nougetsia sang with a sly smile, as if to bait him into going.

"Oh great, I get to embarrass myself in front of the missus."

"It'll be romaaaantiiiic," she kept singing.

"No, it won't," Turbo sang back, matching her tune. "Because falling on your molasses is the farthest thing from romantic as you can get."

They all cracked up at that, a chorus of girlish giggles filling up the room instantly. He wasn't entirely sure what he said that was so funny but he felt himself smile regardless. He had thought he'd be uncomfortable being around the little girls, but they were just as easy to get along with as the boys, if not more so.

Strange, considering the last time he had been in _Sugar Rush_, he had been tied up and used as a living piñata.

"You're still coming," Snowanna insisted once her giggles subsided. "And of course to the Anniversary Party."

"I doubt I have a choice in _that_ matter."

"You don't!" Candlehead piped up with a huge grin. "President's orders!"

"Why am I not surprised?" he muttered rhetorically to himself.

"It'll be loads of fun this year!" proclaimed Nougetsia happily, then her face fell and she sunk down in her seat, looking shyly at Turbo. "Not that they weren't fun when _you_ threw them or anything."

Candlehead turned her head towards Turbo with a large grin on her face. "We're going to _Dance Dance Revolution_ this year!"

He felt a sick, sinking feel in the pit of his stomach upon hearing that. "Why aren't you having it _here_?"

"Vanellope wanted to do something different," explained Snowanna with a casual shrug. "It'll be her first Anniversary Party and she wants it to be the biggest and best party ever."

He couldn't blame her for that, since she had never been invited to a single party during his reign as king. Now that he knew what it felt like to be shunned by society, he could all but imagine how it must have felt for her to not be invited to anything all those years without a single friend to keep her company. Actually, he_ did_ know what is what like to not have any friends around. It made him feel pretty crummy being the one responsible for her having to suffer with that.

As if she knew she was getting talked about, Vanellope just happened to knock on the door at that time, wanting to see how the ice cream mission went. Candlehead had just allowed her in when Turbo got up from his seat and dragged the president by her hoodie right back outside, saying he needed to talk to her.

* * *

"What's _your_ beef?" Vanellope wanted to know once they were outside the house in private.

"That's what I wanted to ask _you_!" Turbo informed her, poking her in the nose with a finger, making her blink and step back. "I just found out you're throwing the Anniversary Party at DDR!"

She shrugged her shoulders, a bored look on her face. "Yeah, so?"

"_So?_ So, I can't go in there!" he all but shouted at her, not angrily but more in a panicked tone, and making wild gestures with his arms. "I'm _banned_ from that game! Yuni herself had her two macho steroid-injected guards throw me out!"

She blew a raspberry and said, "Stop worrying so much, diaper baby, I took care of all that already."

Turbo stared at her in disbelief. "You did?"

"Of _course_, crazy guy," she said in an exasperated voice, as if he should have known this already. "Me and Rosie went by there to reserve some tables and junk, and Yuni said you could come if you stayed with us and behaved yourself."

Wow, Rosie had been keeping herself busier than Turbo had thought she'd been. First, she got approval to get him into _Street Fighter II _and now he was being allowed in _Dance Dance Revolution_…the two games that he had gotten forcefully thrown out of just last week. He had definitely picked a keeper, that's for sure.

"Besides, unless you just want to spend the rest of your life going back and forth between here and Hammer Time's place," she continued, referring to Felix's game, "you need to get out there in public and show that you've been a good boy."

"Yeah, that didn't exactly work the _first_ time around," Turbo related, his shoulders sagging a bit.

"But you didn't have a posse of adorable little children helping you either," Vanellope pointed out with her most charming smile, her big eyes batting her lashes at him to help sell the cuteness factor to him.

Okay, fine….he was starting to think they _were _kinda cute…even if they _did_ have big heads and over-sized eyes. He blew his breath out, still not sure if it was a good idea or not.

"Come on, you can trust _me_," the candy-haired girl persisted, still giving him a big smile. "Even if somebody _did_ want to hurt you, they wouldn't dare do it around us sweet innocent angels, would they?"

It was humorous to envision a herd of kids being his personal bodyguards out in public and he couldn't help but get a laugh out of that…that and the comment she made about them being angels. They weren't exactly devils but they were far from angels as well. Then again, so was _he_.

"All right...I trust you."

If he didn't know better, he'd say Vanellope grinned victoriously.

* * *

Turbo could have sworn he heard something. He was back out in the Candy Corn Fields, this time just him and the boys. They were tying off the last of the stalks that needed to be cut down later in order to make the maze paths and there was only one more half-acre to go. He had gone off a bit further by himself when they had started bickering about who could burp their ABC's the best. Not caring to be part of _that_ conversation, Turbo just kept trudging through the stalks until he couldn't hear them anymore.

That was when he heard what sounded like someone whispering "Pssst!" at him. On his guard, he stood still in one place to try and determine what direction the noise had come from. He heard something move behind him and he swung around, fully prepared to throw a punch should he find himself in danger. When he saw who it was, he relaxed his arm but a glaring scowl appeared on his face.

"Whoa, Turbs," Officer Bob laughed as he pushed some corn stalks out of the way with one hand, the other pressed to his heart as if he'd really been frightened. "Geez, gonna give a feller a heart attack."

"What are you doing here?" the racer bit angrily, remembering what Rosie had said about him possibly trying to kill him in that car accident.

"Aww, now, don't be like that," the policeman was saying in his most friendly tone. He tried to pat the other man's shoulder, but he moved out of the way before he could do so.

"Don't you dare come up to me and act like nothing's wrong," Turbo growled, keeping at least a foot's distance between them. "You almost got me _killed."_

Bob waved both his hands at him dismissively and chuckled. "That was just a joke, man! We weren't trying to do anything to you. Hell, we were _all_ drunk, we didn't know what we were doing any more than _you_ did."

Turbo supposed that _could_ be true but he wasn't stupid enough to believe him fully or even trust anything he said. Plus, if Rosie said he was bad news then he'd take her word for it.

"Even if that's true, that doesn't explain why you're _here_," he replied with his arms crossed, steering the conversation back to where he had wanted it to go originally.

Bob's wide toothy grin radiated of sleaziness, something Turbo couldn't believe he hadn't noticed before. The officer looked around him in a condescending manner as if he believed it was beneath him to even step foot in this type of environment.

"Well, I heard you were stuck back in this sugar-coated nightmare of a game, surrounded by all these kids, and thought you might need a friend to keep you company."

He pulled a flask from inside his uniform shirt and Turbo's eyes widened, now realizing what the purpose in this unanticipated visit was.

"Ain't no better friend than Jack Daniels," Bob said in a coaxing tone in order to lure him into taking it.

The racer rubbed the back of his neck fretfully. He hadn't had a drink since he came here; honestly, he had only thought about it once or twice, but nothing had happened to make him really desire the taste of liquor.

"I…I don't think I should," he told the cop, his eyes betraying him by staying glued to the flask in his hand.

"Come on, just a sip won't hurt," Bob pressed him, shaking the contents of the flask enough to let him hear the alcohol inside. "Might make being around the rugrats more tolerable. Have your own private party without them crawling all over you."

Turbo felt his mouth water at the thought of having something that wasn't overwhelmingly sugary running down his throat. He could have just one sip, that wouldn't hurt. Kids wouldn't ever know it happened and Rosie sure didn't have to find out. He could even eat a cob of candy corn to disguise the smell on his breath.

Just one little…

He shook his head back and forth decisively, casting the temptation from his mind. "No. That's not a good idea."

Bob gave him a malicious look, one that Turbo could honestly say he'd never seen on him before. Then again, he apparently didn't know the guy all that well so he had no idea that that was actually his usual way of looking at people. He shoved the flask angrily back where he had pulled it out from, keeping his glare on the racer.

"You'll change your mind," Bob told him as if he was _warning _him. "Just like you did the first time, you'll come crawling back by the end of the day."

Turbo had his own glare fixated on his false friend, his nerves on edge just in case he decided to try something. To think that they had gotten along with each other back in the pre-_RoadBlasters_ days.

"Get the hell out," he growled through clenched teeth, his hands curling into fists beside him.

"Or_ what_?" Bob jeered at him with an arrogant smile. "You gonna _kill_ me if I don't?"

Damn, that stung. However, instead of inciting a bout of depression in him, the comment actually pissed him off _more_. Bob thought maybe he'd finally said something to get Turbo to start a fight with him, when suddenly the angry face that the racer had been wearing turned into more of a playful smirk.

"No," he answered him, his mischievous eyes focused on something that was behind Bob. "I'm going to sic a _very_ territorial fire-breathing uni-candy-corn on you."

The remark was so random and bizarre that Bob thought maybe the racer had lost his marbles, until he smelt something really fruity behind him and felt a puff of hot breath on the back of his neck. The policeman turned around slowly and came face to face with the most ridiculous looking animal he'd ever seen.

"Skittles doesn't like strangers," he heard Turbo say in an amused tone. "I'd run if I were you."

The pink behemoth roared angrily and flames erupted from his nostrils, and that was all the incentive Bob needed to get the heck outta Dodge. Screaming shrilly at the top of his lungs, he tore off through the fields being chased by Skittles who was steadily blowing a stream of fire at him.

After about five minutes, Skittles came trotting back to Turbo, nuzzling at the side of his helmet affectionately and nickering softly. The racer gave him a few well-earned pats and then dug in his pocket for the little packet of sugar cubes he now kept with him. He offered Skittles a few, who munched on them happily.

"Good pony."

* * *

"That one looks like a bunny."

Turbo tilted his head an inch and squinted. "I think it looks like a cloud."

"You _always _say that," Rosie chuckled warmly.

They were laying in the sweet tea flower meadow watching the clouds, her head resting against his shoulder in the crook of his arm so he could fold it around her and his other arm folded back behind his head for extra cushion.

"Fine, it looks like cotton candy," he modified his answer cheekily with a small grin.

Rosie rolled her eyes playfully and turned onto her side towards him so she could snuggle, throwing an arm over his chest comfortably while he combed the ends of her hair with his fingers. It was_ so_ nice to be enjoying a favorite pastime together again. The only sound in the air was that of the nearby hot chocolate spring bubbling and the occasional howl of wind coming from the Ice Cream Mountains.

"You're my best friend," Turbo conveyed to her fondly, talking just above a whisper.

She smiled happily to herself. "You're mine, too."

"Hey, remember when you were trying to explain about…about homes not being a place? It's where you feel like you belong at, or something?"

"I made it sound confusing," she muttered sheepishly.

"No, I've been thinking it over lately and you were right," he assured her, giving her a little rub on her back. "I always thought _TurboTime_ was the only place I ever belonged at, but after everything that's gone on this week, I figured that I never really belonged there either unless I was winning a first place trophy. _You're_ the first person that made me feel like I was really wanted, no matter where we went.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're 'home' to me, too," he concluded, borrowing a phrase she had mentioned over a week ago.

Rosie sighed in contentment and gave him a little squeeze. "You're a real sweetheart sometimes."

"I aim to please," he lightly jested before turning his eyes back up to the clouds. "_That_ one looks kinda like a bunny."

* * *

He was going to pay for that. If that bastard thought he'd seen the last of him, well he was very badly mistaken. Bob sat in Game Central Station on his usual bench with his arms crossed and staring into space with an evil look on his face. Even Freddy and Candy were more scared than they usually were of him.

"Hey, Bob, you okay?" Freddy decided to ask after fifteen minutes of trying to ignore this behavior.

"Don't talk to me, freak," the cop snapped, still not moving a muscle. "I'm so damn pissed. Everyone around here is talking about how that murderer is starting to show a soft side, thanks to those little sugar brats running around out here in their spare time heaping praises on him like he was their best friend or something. Before long, people are going to think he isn't that bad of a guy."

Bob raised his head up, blankly glaring into the crowd of people before him, minding their own business and transporting themselves to whatever game they wanted to visit.

"I can't have that," he continued darkly. "I can't live in a world where people think that it's okay to accept filth into our society, allowing the risk of them polluting the rest of us."

Candy and Freddy exchanged worried glances but kept their mouths shut, knowing he'd only get outraged if they said something.

_I have to do something to make that bastard screw up, _he thought maniacally to himself. _Hit him where it would really hurt, something to make him act like the nutjob he really is. _

He sat there and pondered silently. After a few moments, his scowl turned slowly into a devious grin as he came up with the obvious answer to his problem.

_Home. Hit him close to home. _

Not yet, though. Wait a spell, until the time's right. Now was not the time to act hastily.


	22. Ice Breaker

_And I bring you some more fluff to enjoy. Hopefully this will cheer up those of you who read that dark one-shot I wrote the other day ("Popular"), lol.  
_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

_**Day Seven...**_

The iced-over pond made of Invisible Kool-Aid that was located behind Adorabeezle and Nougetsia's two-story igloo house was already teeming with happy kids skating effortlessly over its frozen surface. Turbo gulped from his position on the bench and looked down at his custom made red skates that were handcrafted by Crumbelina herself. He felt warm appreciation that she'd gone through all the trouble for him (even using his favorite color), but the fact remained that he was…well…_scared_. He was going to look like an idiot out there.

Turbo looked up and over to his right at Ralph, the only other person there besides the children. Felix and Calhoun had come to the last ice skating party, so they had opted out of this one in favor of spending some alone time together.

"Why don't _you_ go out there?" Turbo asked the wrecker inquisitively, who was standing next to the bench out of fear that he'd break it if he sat down.

Ralph laughed nervously and crossed his arms in a show of self-consciousness. "Yeah, a nine foot tall guy that weighs over six hundred pounds going out onto the _ice_."

"Right, I see your point," the racer said quietly, casting his gaze once more to the pond.

Sticky was attempting to skate with Swizzle, who was currently trying to partner up with Snowanna, who could really have cared less. Vanellope, Candlehead, Minty, and Taffyta were swinging each other around in a conjoined circle, giggling wildly as they came close to falling a few times. Crumbelina was as graceful as always performing figure-eights and little twirls, while Gloyd was racing around stealing the hats off the other girls' heads in order to get them to chase him. Citrusella and Adorabeezle were taking a break and making miniature ice cream snowmen on the sidelines.

They were all having fun and Turbo felt immensely left out….like he always did. He wondered when Rosie was going to come; they'd told him she'd be here, which was the only real motivation he'd had in showing up. Snowanna managed to get the Swizz off her tail and focus his attention on Torvald, which only made Sticky try harder to vie for his affection, and she whistled for Jubileena to come over to her and they skated up to where Turbo was sitting.

"Come on, Crumbelina's feelings are going to get hurt if you don't come out here," the rainbow-haired girl was telling him as she held her hand out for him to grab.

He winced at the thought of hurting her feelings, even though he hadn't really spoken to her that much.

"I'm going to fall," he said almost bashfully, something Ralph or even the girls thought they'd never hear.

"Hey, at least when _you_ fall, you don't cause a ten on the Richter Scale," Ralph said in a light-hearted manner to get him to see the bright side.

"Maybe you'll learn really fast and won't fall too much," Jubileena offered sweetly.

He highly doubted that and it showed on his face that he was still unsure of this.

"The faster you get out here, the faster you learn how to do it," Snowanna recited, pointing an authoritative finger down at the ice to get her message across.

Jubileena added, "Yeah, then when Miss Rosie shows up, you can skate with _her_." She sighed after she said it. "It'll be _so_ ro-_man_-tic."

Turbo looked back down at the vanilla ice cream snow surrounding his feet. "Yeah, until I trip her up and _fall_ on her."

Ralph blew out an aggravated breath, quickly tiring of the conversation. He couldn't believe he thought this way, but he actually _missed_ Turbo being his old cocky, over-confident self. Without warning, he plucked the smaller man up off the bench by the back of his suit and, ignoring his cries of protest, dangled him over the ice before lowering him onto his feet.

"There, now quit whining about it," Ralph insisted firmly after he released the reluctant student.

Turbo was too scared to move a muscle, his whole body rigid as he attempted to stay upright on the slippery surface. He immediately wished to go back to the bench as he felt his feet barely slide under him.

"If you don't have a problem crashing during a race, then it shouldn't be a big deal to fall," Snowanna pointed out in an effort to enlighten him.

"Not everyone stares at you when you crash in a race, because they're all too preoccupied either driving or watching who's left," Turbo retorted back stubbornly as he kept his eyes fixed fearfully on his feet.

Jubileena tapped at his knees with one of her hands. "Bend them, you can't keep your legs straight or you really _will_ fall!"

"Pretend you're sitting in a kart, but don't bend down quite as much," added Snowanna helpfully.

"And _relax_! You topple over faster if you're not relaxed!"

Turbo worriedly glanced behind him at Ralph, who was giving him a thumbs-up and nodding in encouragement from his place by the bench. He sighed and turned his attention back to his two adamant teachers.

"Here, take my hand!" Jubileena offered assertively, grabbing his before he had a chance to answer or do it himself.

"Now start walking, mister!" Snowanna commanded while pointing her finger in a forward direction.

"Walk?"

"Baby steps!" the cherry-pie themed racer explained to him. "That's how _we_ all started."

"And don't step down with your toes first, that'll make you trip for sure!"

The two girls both taking turns telling him what to do was making Turbo feel dizzy and he shut his eyes for a few seconds to clear his head. Okay, he can do this. Baby steps should be easy enough for him to handle without tumbling over. He squeezed Jubileena's hand a little too hard since she squeaked painfully, and he slowly and very timidly picked his right foot up off the ice and moved it about an inch in front of him before carefully putting it back down.

"There ya go, that's one foot!" Jubileena cheered him on enthusiastically.

"Do the other one or you'll wind up doing the splits," he heard Snowanna advise from the other side of him.

_Banana splits_, the "King Candy" part of him said and Turbo rolled his eyes at himself in exasperation. That was the one thing that would be worse than landing on his face. He picked his left foot up a tad faster and placed it down by the other one. He smiled meagerly at his minor accomplishment, mentally patting himself on the back for not falling right away.

"Good job! Now just do it a bunch more times until you get your balance figured out," Snowanna instructed him, saying it as though she was asking him to do the easiest thing in the world.

He blew out his breath and, keeping his hand in Jubileena's, made another set of baby steps.

"You're hands are so cold, I can feel it through my glove!" the little red-haired girl complained.

"Well excuuuuse me, sorry to be such a burden to you."

"Don't you have _any_ winter clothes?" she kept probing him. "Like a scarf or something?"

"I _used_ to," he answered, taking another little step. "I didn't exactly have time to pack before my _TurboTime_ house disappeared."

The only reason he even had pajamas or other small personal trinkets was because he had kept a few items over at Rosie's dorm room while they were dating for when he stayed the night at her place after one of her after-hours basketball games, and she had fortunately opted to keep it all as memoirs after his "death". Unfortunately, seasonal wear wasn't included with those things so he didn't have a coat, scarf, gloves, nothing.

Conversing had made Turbo not concentrate fully on what he was doing and suddenly the world went upside down as he slipped backwards, his legs flipping up in the air landing hard on his back on the ice. He groaned painfully and slowly opened his eyes to see Snowanna and Jubileena's faces peering down at him worriedly as they leaned over to make sure he was all right. The fallen racer braced himself for a chorus of mocking laughter, dreading this to be a repeat of the incident at _BurgerTime_.

To his astonishment, he heard no such thing. Vanellope skidded into view to join the other two girls at peeking down at him from above, followed by Candlehead who had her usual ditzy smile on her face.

"What are you doing down _there_, Mister Turbo?" she questioned bouncily.

"Oh just chilling out, you know, the usual," he muttered halfheartedly in response, getting embarrassed at all these witnesses.

They all four giggled and he cringed at the noise until he figured out that they weren't laughing because he had fallen.

"You can't lay there all day, lazy bones," smirked Vanellope in good nature. "Don't want someone running you over with their blades, do ya?"

"I don't think I can move," Turbo whined, feeling the dull pain in his spine.

"At least you didn't crack the ice!" Ralph was calling out to him in a helpful manner, his large hands cupping his mouth so his voice would carry.

"Oh, come on, silly!" Jubileena perked up, trying to shove against Turbo's shoulder. "You have to roll over on your hands and knees to get up!"

"Okay okay, quit pushing me," the older racer waved her off as he finished the chore himself.

The ice was freezing against his bare hands and his back creaked when he got up on his knees. Someone, he wasn't sure who exactly, told him to bring one knee forward and put his foot flat on the ice to stand up, but his attempt at doing this only made him fall _again_. His jaw slammed into the ice roughly as he landed flat on his stomach, groaning as he laid there.

"For the love of gumdrops, you really _are_ a klutz," Snowanna shook her head in disbelief.

"Told ya," he squeaked out, not daring to move from his new prone position as he stared longingly at the pond's edge where there was solid ground to stand on.

That's when Taffyta of all people decided to skate in front of his face and stop, kneeling down enough to where he could look up into her cold blue eyes. She was staring at him with disinterest, her lips puckered around her precious lollipop and with one hand placed on her hip. The other kids piped down when they saw her and Turbo could see out of the corner of his eye that Ralph was even still. Everyone always shut up when Taffyta appeared, that's just how much of an impact her presence made.

_Here it comes. She's going to bitch about what an epic loser I am. Just what I needed._

The platinum blonde popped her trademark candy out of her mouth, twirling the stick part between her fingers, before opening her mouth to say,

"Look here, _Turbo_. You're supposed to be the greatest racer of all time, right? The former most popular arcade game character, right?"

"Um...yeah?"

"Then start acting like it," she nearly commanded of him. "I'm almost embarrassed for you. You go from being a racing idol to a king to a guy acting more timid than a marshmallow bunny. We all know you're better than this, so get up off your molasses and grow a pair of gumballs already."

The other girls gasped at her use of _two_ foul words in _one_ sentence, regardless of the fact that they were G-rated candy-pun curses. Turbo blinked a few times at her, not sure what to say in response or if he _should_ respond. Taffyta could be a pretty scary bitch, you know. Nevertheless, something in what she said made him put his hands underneath him to begin pushing his upper body up off the ice. His palms slid slightly and for a moment he thought he was going to crash back down on his face until...

"I gotcha, come on!" Jubilenna piped up reassuringly, wrapping her own arms around his left one to help support him.

Vanellope saw what she was doing and got in front of Snowanna to copy her cherry friend, pulling up on his right shoulder. "Get your legs underneath ya and help push yourself up!"

Candlehead was humorously trying to push his knees in a bent position from behind him to help get his legs under him. Gloyd had skated himself around in close proximity to where they were and sped his way over to forcefully give Turbo the right amount of push he needed on his lower back to complete the standing-up process. Turbo lurched forward at that and his arms went flying wildly to the side of him at the unexpected force, causing him to skate forward a bit and Taffyta quickly darted over to the side out of fear that he was going to run her over. Snowanna acted fast and got in front of him to push against his stomach to get him to slow down and he eventually got his bearings enough to stand still in one place. The girls backed off once he was still but they kept close by just in case.

Turbo relaxed once he felt that he was sturdy, allowing himself to sigh in relief and he looked down at all the chibi-styled racers with an genuinely appreciative smile on his face.

"Thanks, kids!"

"You're welcome!" they all chimed together.

They all had helped him up when he fell without complaint or hesitation, like it was completely natural of them to do such a thing. It warmed his heart so much that he was tempted to scoop them all in a hug, except that he didn't want to risk falling down again quite just yet.

Not to mention, it might weird them out.

"Hi, Missus Turbo!" Candlehead called out loudly, sticking her hand way up above her head to wave.

Turbo wasn't sure how to turn himself around without slipping so he could only twist his head to the side, barely able to see his pretty wife skating up from behind him. She had a light pink turtleneck sweater on instead of the pastel yellow tee she had taken to wearing since her game days and white knit gloves on.

"Hi girls!" she cheerily greeted them and they moved out of her way so she could get in front of Turbo, giving him a playful smirk. "So, you gonna be a skating pro anytime soon?"

She threw a red scarf around his neck while she talked and Jubileena said accusingly, "Hey, you said you didn't have any winter gear!"

"I can't even stand back up by myself," Turbo answered his wife then turned his head down to the cherry pie girl and said, "And I _don't_."

"Oh, I bumped into Mario," Rosie informed him casually as she finished fixing the scarf around him properly. "He had a spare he said you could have after I told him what we were doing today."

He seemed surprised. "That was awfully nice of him."

"I couldn't find any gloves for you though," she said regrettably, holding his freezing hands in her own warm gloved ones. "The whole four finger thing, you know."

He blushed a little, his hands warming up already in hers. The _Sugar Rush_ racers all had four fingers as well but none of their gloves would fit his adult hands, as they had already attempted to offer him some of their own spares for him and it not working out. The girls giggled quietly to themselves and he heard Vanellope whispering,

"Turbo and Rosie, sittin' in a tree-"

He shot her quick warning glare and she responded by sticking her tongue out playfully before skating off with Taffyta and Snowanna to race around the pond. Jubileena grabbed Candlehead to follow the other three so the couple could be by themselves, Jubileena giving Turbo a thumbs up and mouthing the words "ro-man-tic". Turbo felt his face get hotter, the scarf beginning to act as an insulator to his neck and chin.

"Well...um...thanks," he told Rosie, not knowing why he was getting so embarrassed. It's not like he'd never held hands with her before. "Sweater looks nice on you."

She beamed at the compliment and started trying to tug him forward while she skated backwards. He tensed up at the motion and squeezed her hands a bit too hard, trying to keep his legs from going out under him.

"It's actually Raven's, but she said she hardly ever wears it anymore so I could have it if I wanted," Rosie was telling him, smiling to herself at the adorable expression of uncertainty that was etched on her husband's face while he tried not to slip. "You really need to loosen up, champ."

"How come _you're_ not having trouble?" Turbo wanted to know, keeping his eyes on the ice the whole time.

"I'm programmed to have perfect balance," she replied matter-of-factly with a small shrug. "And I might have come out here yesterday to get a feel of the ice."

"You came out here without _me_?" he questioned with a slight pout.

"Well, you were kind of busy with the maze thing and I was bored so Adorabeezle said I could hang out with her if I wanted to."

"Hey, wait a minute, where'd you even get skates at anyway?"

"Oh Crumbelina made them for me at the same time she made yours," she answered him casually, wringing one of her hands out of his clutch so she could waggle her fingers at the aforementioned Italian girl, who had waved at her from where she and Minty were doing tricks in the middle of the pond.

"Well, aren't _you_ just Miss Popular?" Turbo kidded with her, feeling uneasy at the loss of her supportive hand and wound up sandwiching her other one between his own two hands in a death grip.

"I _am_ married to _Mister_ Popular, you know," she retorted back with a small smile.

"I don't think that's an accurate title for me these days," he frowned slightly, casting his eyes downwards.

Rosie's face fell, mentally slapping herself for saying something to sadden him, but she forced herself to perk up. She had to pry one of his hands loose from hers so she could go back to holding it correctly. "Sure you are, honeybun. The kids all seem to like you, that has to count for something."

He slid his eyes back up to hers and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, which made _her_ smile.

"Yeah, you're right," he said softly while looking over at the kids playing on the ice. "They're a pretty good bunch."

_I knew he'd eventually start liking kids if he actually hung out with them, _Rosie thought warmly to herself as she noticed the almost fond look he was giving to the little rascals. He probably didn't even know he was looking at them that way.

It was then that Turbo realized that he had managed to, without thinking about it, make decent progress from his original starting point by several yards. Adorabeezle and Citrusella were still sitting down making miniature snow men as they slowly passed by them.

"Look, we made snowbabies!" the Inuit-resembling girl said proudly as she waved her hand over their creations.

Rosie grinned at the large collection that they had made. "How cute!"

"It's a whole family!" Citrusella added with her own grin.

"More like an _army_," muttered Turbo under his breath.

"When are _you two_ going to have babies?"

Rosie giggled at the innocent question while her husband's face turned bright red with a dropped jaw, him having to squeeze her hands even harder to keep from accidentally slipping from shock.

"We...we can't have those!" he blurted out, feeling even hotter now despite the chilly environment.

"Why not?" Adorabeezle asked curiously, oblivious that Turbo was absolutely mortified.

"Be-because we just _can't_, that's why!"

Rosie was still giggling and she twisted one of her hands out of Turbo's, grabbing him by the scarf to gently pull him towards her so she could teasingly whisper, "We can still have fun _practicing."_

Dear. God.

His eyes bugged out and he was so flustered at her flippantly suggestive comment, saying it in the company of _children_ no less, that he suddenly got weak in the knees and his feet ended up slipping sideways underneath him. That jolted him into action and he ripped his other hand out of Rosie's to fearfully grab her around her shoulders to hold himself up. The unexpected added weight made her screech to a quick halt with her knees bending inwardly while she wrapped her arms around his waist in an awkward hug to help support him. He wasn't fat by any means, but he still weighed a good deal more than she did (having more pixels tended to have that effect), as she herself was programmed to be light enough to jump around and do gymnastic activities.

"Turbo...honey...pick your feet back up," she was begging him in a strained voice as she felt a sharp pain in her back. "You're gonna make _me_ fall."

"What do you think I'm trying to _do_?" he asked of her as he felt himself sliding down lower, which as a result was making Rosie have to bend her own knees down as she tried desperately to keep him up.

"Sweet mother of monkey milk, guys, get a room," they heard the bemused snark that could only come from a certain candy-haired president.

Turbo would have glared at her only the way he was positioned he couldn't even _see_ her. "Oh go flirt with Fluggerbutter, why don't ya?"

"_Rancis_?" She started laughing wildly at the very idea, even wiping the corner of her eye. "Please, _that_ pretty boy? I like..._GLOYD!"_

The panicked way she screamed the name tipped him off that something had either happened or was_ going_ to happen. Sure enough, about five seconds after she screamed his name, Orangeboar accidentally rammed himself right into Turbo's backside. He had been preoccupied with escaping the angry clutches of Taffyta who had been his latest hat stealing victim so he didn't even see the couple in his path until it was too late. Rosie had shut her eyes tightly and tensed up to brace for impact, dreading the thought of being at the bottom of the pile when it all ended.

Thankfully, it didn't quite happen that way. Turbo hadn't wanted to land on his petite wife and break her, especially with Felix not currently available, so he shoved her away from him. She ended up sliding backwards and crashing on her bottom while _he _ended up laying prone on the ice with a certain prankster boy laying askew on top of him. Vanellope helped Rosie get up, while Turbo propped his head up with his bent arm to rest it in his hand, keeping his other hand busy by drumming it impatiently on the ice as he awaited for Gloyd to get off of him. The boy sat up and rolled off, looking over at his unamused house guest with a rather sheepish expression.

"He he...sorry?"

* * *

After everyone was done skating, Adorabeezle and Nougetsia said that everyone was welcome to stick around for hot chocolate. Naturally, Turbo couldn't resist so he helped himself to a cup. Candlehead insisted on sitting beside him outside on one of the picnic tables that was set outside and pretty soon everyone was wanting to sit at the table too. Rosie couldn't help but smile as they all tried to talk to him practically at the same time without really giving him much chance to respond and she heard a "psst!" coming from behind her.

Vanellope had her finger to her lips to silently tell her to be quiet and then she waved both her hands towards in her a beckoning motion. With a cocked brow, Rosie followed the candy-haired girl around to the other side of the igloo house where she finally started talking.

"I didn't want Turbo hearing this," she started off, "But me and some of the others had this really cool idea for a surprise."

"What kind of surprise?" Rosie asked warily. "He's not too big on those sometimes."

"Relax, it's a good one! Only thing is none of us know what it looked like." She shrugged her arms up helplessly. "So I need you to sneak off sometime and help me make it."

"What _is_ it?"

Vanellope waved her to bend down so that she could whisper in her ear and Rosie's face lit up in a wide grin. "Oh my _gosh_, that is so sweet and thoughtful!"

"Shhhhh! You _can't _tell him, okay_?"_

_"_Oh don't worry, this is _definitely_ staying a secret. He will be _beyond_ thrilled when he sees it."

"OOORRANGEEBOOOOOOARRR!"

When they heard the unmistakable screaming from Turbo, the two girls exchanged worried glances before rushing back to the other side of the igloo house. What they had missed was Gloyd perfectly targeting Turbo's face with an ice cream snowball, the retired racer's face dripping with vanilla. He had dove into the snow to make his own snowball and hurled it back at the boy, just getting him in the leg. Notably, instead of a deep scowl marking his features as he sought revenge, he had what could be considered a gleeful competitive grin.

Someone yelled "SNOWBALL FIGHT!" and it was on._ Everyone_ played a role. Out of the _Sugar Rush_-ians, the most formidable opponents were Gloyd, Vanellope, Minty, Taffyta, and the Swizz. Vanellope was able to glitch out of an oncoming missile's way and also teleport herself to a different location in order to do a sneak attack. Ralph made both a good shield _and_ a good snowball thrower, even if he wasn't too good at actually _making _the snowballs with his large hands.

It didn't take long for everyone to get covered in vanilla slush but everyone was laughing and having a great time. Even Turbo had what he would say was a turbo-tastic time getting pelted and assaulted by the kids, all of them cracking up and running away screaming in hysterics every time they managed to hit him. He even helped some of the not-so-good kids get a few shots in at the others.

Rosie would say to him later that it was nice to see him laughing again, which earned her a tickle attack.


	23. Close to Home

_What happens in this chapter...please don't kill me, guys...this is MUCH tamer than it was originally going to be, trust me.  
_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

_**Day Nine...**_

Rosie had been up to Mary's penthouse to borrow some things to make peanut butter and banana sandwiches for lunch (something she didn't have to cook) and was just coming back home. Since she hadn't been gone that long and was only next door, she had seen no need in locking the front door so she walked right in as she always did. As soon as she put her bag down on the bar in the den, that's when she found out she had a visitor.

With her back still turned, she felt someone from behind roughly slap a hand over her mouth in an effort to keep her from screaming. Unfortunately for them, Rosie had ninja training and, even though she was quite startled by the sudden attack, she managed to deliver a backwards kick into the intruder's groin area. This effectively got them off her far enough for her to spin around and deliver a punch to the face.

Unfortunately for _her_, the intruder was none other than Officer Bob and he was currently pissed as hell that a woman had gotten the upper hand on him. His face was fixed in an evil scowl which admittedly made Rosie hesitate out of shock. He reared back and slapped her across the face hard enough to knock her down and before she even had time to think, he had her flipped over on her stomach to disenable her from both escaping _and_ fighting back.

"Get _off_ me, bastard!" she was spitting at him while struggling under the man's hold. He had her arms pinned behind her back and he was sitting on her legs to keep her from trying anything.

"See here, you little _bitch_," Bob snarled as he tightened his grip on her arms, pulling hard at her shoulders to elicit a pained whine out of her. "Think you're such tough shit that you think you can dare threaten _me_ in _public_? Remember doing that? Let's see how tough you are _now_."

Bob was stronger than he looked and try as she might, Rosie couldn't get herself loose from him. Okay, maybe it _had_ been stupid and irrational of her to go up to him a few days ago in the Station and tell him off. Panic began to seize her, not knowing what it was he intended to do with her though she had a few nightmarish ideas flash in her imagination.

"That was highly inappropriate of you to do that," the deranged policeman continued, his fingers digging into her forearms even harder. She whined again which made him smile; if he was causing pain, that meant he was in control and he loved that more than anything.

"_No one_ threatens an officer of the law, especially a _woman." _

Rosie's panic level shot up when she felt the cold slap of handcuffs go around her wrists.

"And _especially_ one that spends her free time spreading her legs for notorious criminals."

She tried to jerk her arms free again to no avail, doing nothing but hurting her own shoulders, and tears started squirting out of her eyes. "Go to hell!"

"What's it like getting touched by hands that took the lives of others?" Bob cruelly asked in a low voice.

"Rather his than yours," she growled angrily before she could bite her tongue. Might not have been the smartest thing to say in her situation.

He roughly flipped her over onto her back, her hands still bound tight behind her and hurting even more now that her weight was on them. She had the displeasure of looking Bob in the face now and she wore a mixed expression of hate and fear, her eyes cutting a deep glare into his own and tears streaking down her cheeks. His knees were anchoring her hips down so she would be unable to kick at him, not that it stopped her from trying to anyway.

"Poor stupid slut, you probably have no idea what it's like to be with a_ real_ man."

He said it in what was supposed to be a sympathizing voice, only it had such a dark edge to it that it wouldn't have fooled anyone that heard it. The way he was sitting allowed for his pelvic area to press inappropriately against her and she gritted her teeth in disgust, trying to shake herself hard enough to get him off of her.

"Go ahead and struggle, I like when my women do that," he taunted her as he pulled his glock out and tapped her between the eyes with the muzzle. "You scream and it's all over, you hear me?"

_Oh my God, this isn't happening_, she thought alarmingly as she prepared herself to mentally block what she was sure was going to take place. She froze when he cocked the gun's lever and a cold sweat washed over her. She imagined what Turbo was going to do when she told him (if she lived through this), how stark-raving insane he'd be before he went to kill the bastard responsible and in the process getting his own self killed. Just thinking about that made her feel even worse and she had to bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from crying out loud.

"You should really consider yourself lucky, bitch. There's no telling what viruses you picked up from sleeping with that slime, so don't worry about _that_," he told her in a creepily calm voice that made it sound like he was doing her a favor by not raping her. "But that doesn't mean we still can't have _some_ fun."

* * *

It felt like hours but in reality it had been only fifteen minutes, which was long enough. A large section of Rosie's pride was wounded in that she had been put in a situation where she had been unable to defend herself. Also, she was still disgusted at the sensation of Bob doing…_things_ to her. It made her sick to her stomach to think of what _could_ have happened and she retched a few times as she laid there on her side on the den floor.

No, he hadn't raped her, but the way she was feeling he might as well have; he'd done plenty enough with his _hands_…and he hadn't been gentle about it either, he'd made sure it hurt. The lewd comments he made about her while he did…_things_…didn't help either. Not to mention how he seemed to _enjoy _it. She had kept her eyes shut and her head turned to the side the whole time, trying to force her mind to go to a happy place.

"I already know you're going to tell your husband about this," Bob whispered harshly. "But if he comes after me….it only takes one bullet."

She shuddered violently when he said "BANG!" really loud and then laughed that stupid hyena laugh of his. He eventually unlocked the cuffs to release her wrists but she still laid there frozen on the floor, absolutely petrified that if she moved then he would shoot her on the spot as he still had the gun aimed at her head.

"Consider that a warning," was the last thing she heard him say before he exited the premises, the sound of the door closing being the only clue she had that he had indeed left.

God, she felt so _dirty_, something she'd never felt before in her life, and she ended up crawling upstairs and sitting in the shower with the hot water running over while she hugged herself and cried. She didn't know what to do! Naturally, the first thing that crossed her mind was to run over to _Sugar Rush_ and tell Turbo what happened, but she was so damn scared he'd get into such a rage about it that he'd do exactly what Bob wanted him to do: go after him.

_It only takes one bullet_.

Obviously, this was went to be a ploy to get her husband to start a fight and then get himself killed, Bob claiming "self-defense" or some bullshit like that. Turbo was a possessive guy, he always had been and especially with _her_. He didn't even like it when she got so much as an appreciative glance from other men, thinking they would try to take her from him even though he knew full and well that she wouldn't have left him. It was just the idea that someone would have the indecency to make eyes at _his_ girl that pissed him off, like they were doing it on purpose to make him mad.

And now here she was having been…_touched_…and that was definitely enough of an incentive for him to fly into a frenzy, whether it be homicidal or just wanting to go beat the shit out of him.

Still, she couldn't keep it to herself forever, she was a bad liar and he'd see right through her and figure out something was wrong. It would just piss him off more if she kept it from him too long, wondering why she hadn't told him right away. He was her husband, for God's sake, she should be able to tell him _this_ of all things. But he'd been in such a good mood lately, even laughing and having fun the other day at the ice skating party, and she hated to mess that up.

She juggled the pros and cons in her head while she laid her head down in her arms, which were wrapped around her bent up knees, the hot water still pouring on her. All right…all right…she'd tell him…but she wasn't going to do it right now, not with all the little kids out and about. No sense freaking them out just in case he _did_ go crazy.

* * *

Opening hours for the arcade were soon approaching and Rosie hadn't come by to visit yet. With each hour that passed, Turbo would look around more and more anxiously to see if she was approaching but she never showed up. Everyone noticed that he was distracted, so they'd try to break his concentration by asking him for help in cutting down their assigned section of cornstalks with the shears they were all careful not to cut themselves with.

"Maybe she got roped into something with a friend and lost track of time," Vanellope suggested weakly at one point, to which she got the equally weak response of "Maybe".

The kids started leaving the Candy Corn Fields one after another during the final hour before Litwak opened up his doors and Turbo sighed sadly as he reluctantly dragged himself inside Gloyd's house to take a shower. The pumpkin boy was once again on the roster to race so he wouldn't be around all day, and the kids that didn't make it onto the roster went home to rest from all the work they'd done.

Turbo let the hot water run over him, wondering what the heck had caused Rosie to not show up. Frankly, he was worried about her. It wasn't like her to break her word like that. His gut instinct told him something must have happened to her, but he shook it off. Can't go automatically thinking the worst, you know. Maybe Vanellope had been right when she just simply lost track of time. She'd probably show up first thing when he woke up later to make up for it; maybe even stay longer than normal.

With that in mind, his anxiety lowered about the situation and he went on to dry himself off and donned his pajamas. He had barely had enough time to get out of the bathroom door when he was bombarded by a redhead approximately his height wrapping her arms tight around his neck and shoulders, squeezing him into a forced hug and burying her head in the crook of his neck. The fact that Rosie was crying is what tipped him off that he'd been correct in assuming that something had indeed happened to her and he instinctively enclosed her in a protective embrace, letting one hand rub her back in a soothing gesture.

"What happened?" he asked her gently, trying to keep from sounding panicked as not to upset her more. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"I…I f-forgot to l-lock the f-f-front d-door, and-and…th-there was s-s-someone in-inside and-and…," she spat out in a blubbering mess, shaking like a leaf against him and not quite able to finish her sentence.

_Someone hurt her,_ Turbo instantly deduced in his head, already feeling a flare of anger rise up in him. He squeezed her tightly, his eyes reflecting the wrath that was surging through him.

"I…I tried t-to prot-t-tect m-myself but-but-"

"It's okay, baby doll, I know you did," he whispered to her, trying to keep his voice calm and level in spite of wanting to go out and rip off the head of whoever went after her. "Did they hurt you?"

He felt her shake her head "yes" and he had to grit his teeth hard enough to hurt himself to keep from going into a tirade. Even though he was squeezing her a bit too hard, Rosie felt so much safer being in his arms, the one place she could personally guarantee she'd never be hurt at. She knew he was trying to keep his temper in check in front of her because he was trembling with his hands clenched into fists against her back, getting his fingers tangled in her flowing hair in the process.

"How many?"

"J-just one." She decided to wait until he asked "who?" before she gave that information up, knowing that would only make him want to go out and hunt him down straight away.

"A guy?"

"Ye-yes."

"He didn't….you know…?" he asked almost helplessly, not able make himself say the word "rape" because it sounded so sick and filthy to him.

Rosie swallowed hard and she managed to blub out in summary what exactly had been done to her, the feeling of shame and degradation creeping back on her. She wisely left out the part about handcuffs so he wouldn't automatically guess who the culprit was.

If Turbo hadn't already been seeing red, he was sure seeing it _now_. It was one thing to mess with _him_; it was a completely different story to mess with _her_, and _especially_ in a manner such as that.

"Who…was…it?" he growled fiercely, having to force the words out through clenched teeth.

"Does it really matter?" Rosie countered in a small voice, almost like she was pleading him not to ask her that.

"_Yes_, it matters, I need to know whose ass to kick hard enough to make him taste _shit_ for the rest of his life," Turbo spat out in a breathless rush. "And that's _before_ I castrate him and shove his dick down his throat."

_At least he didn't say he was going to KILL him_, was the wild thought in the back of Rosie's mind but she was still panicked that he was really going to do something close to that if she went ahead and told him who it was.

"Champ, _please_ calm down," she begged tearfully. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"_I'm_ not the one that's going to get hurt, _he _is."

"He said he'd _shoot_ you if you came anywhere _near_ him," she couldn't help but whimper. "Baby, _please_ don't go out there and start a scene, that's why I didn't want to tell you about it right away."

Turbo stayed silent for a few moments, trying to get his breathing to a more normal rate. So _that's_ why she hadn't come by to visit until now. She hadn't wanted to tell him knowing that he'd react just the way he is now and possibly get himself killed. He thought about her sitting alone at the house worrying about what _he_ would do when he heard the news, and it made him feel like complete and utter shit. She shouldn't _have_ to be constantly concerned about how he was going to react to something, especially something to _this_ degree.

He was being selfish, he realized bitterly as his violent urges slowly subsided; he shouldn't be focused on revenge, not when Rosie needed him to be there with _her_. It still angered him immensely that someone had gone after her in an attempt to bait him, but he kept trying to tell himself that at least she was alive and not currently in any pain, at the most just shaken up.

Rosie felt his muscles gradually relax, a sign that he was starting to calm down, and he exhaled deeply. He was still going to be mad, of course, but he _was_ making a strong attempt to control his temper. Knowing that he wasn't going anywhere just yet helped to calm_ her_ down also and she softened the tight hug that she had been keeping around his neck.

"Oh my pretty girl," Turbo sighed sadly, rubbing up and down her back in a pacifying manner. "My poor pretty girl."

She ran her hands up behind his head to dig into his still damp hair and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. Turning his head slightly, he gently kissed her on the mouth and followed up with light kisses on her cheeks, forehead, between her eyes, tip of her nose, then back on the lips.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked her quietly when he pulled back, his eyes full of concern.

She gave him a hint of a smile. "I'm always okay when I'm with _you."_

He gave her a faint smile back before giving her another kiss and it didn't take long for either of them to get lost in it. She felt his arms brace themselves around her before he picked her up and she popped her legs up behind her knees so he could carry her, not once breaking their kiss that was steadily growing more passionate the longer it went on, and they disappeared into the bedroom where they could properly love on each other.

* * *

_Come stop your crying, it will be all right. Just take my hand, hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you...My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm. This bond between us can't be broken. I will be here, don't you cry. (Phil Collins, You'll Be in My Heart)_

* * *

**_Two Hours Later_**

"Sorry I made us fall out of bed."

Turbo smiled softly and kissed his wife's forehead as she lay snuggled up against him, the both of them tangled up in one of the bedsheets. They'd needed about ten minutes to wordlessly relax to catch their breath after the heavy round of extended love making they'd went through, something that they hadn't done in a while (a week was considered a ridiculously long time to them).

"Floor was probably bigger for what we wanted to do anyway," he replied cheekily, his voice rumbly due to lack of sleep. "I was too preoccupied to notice right away anyhow."

Rosie blushed faintly and chuckled. "I still feel kind of odd we did this in a kids' game."

He had to laugh at that. "We're _both _from kids' games, silly girl. Everywhere we ever went was, so what's the difference?"

"No, I mean a game with actual kids _in _it," she clarified. "But I guess if we could make do in the cab of your old car or on your old staircase, I suppose this is a pretty tame location."

His eyes glinted mischievously. "I _knew_ there was something we forgot to do when we moved in. We haven't christened the _new_ staircase yet."

"Oh hush, I think we were both tipsy when we did that," she giggled, gently raking her nails down his chest to make him shiver.

"Yeah, we were," he agreed quietly as he caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles, something having crossed his mind when she said that. "I probably should have told you this already, but…the other day, ol' Bob showed up here-"

Rosie froze when she heard the name, ducking her chin down without realizing she was doing it.

"-and he tried to get me to take a flask of whiskey from him."

She gulped silently before asking, "What'd you do?"

"I told him to get the hell out," he told her proudly. "Skittles _might_ have helped persuade him as well."

Turbo noticed that she'd grown quiet and lowered his head down. "What's the matter?"

Rosie curled her arms up in the bedsheet to tug closer to her, feeling dreadfully insecure. "That's who it was," she said in such a quiet voice that he almost didn't hear her.

He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, slowly hissing his breath through them audibly in aggravation. Rosie's heart pounded, fearing he was going to hop up and go promptly approach the man, but he didn't make any such move. Instead, he tugged her closer to him in a hug, wrapping his arm around her to keep her there. He felt stuck between a rock and a hard place: if he went after Bob, he would either shoot Turbo dead or start a fight with him just to start even _more_ trouble for him out in Game Central Station ("_See! He really _is_ crazy_!"); if he _didn't_ go after him, that was like saying he was too weak or scared to defend his own wife's honor.

"Champ, I know you want to do something to him, but he was being serious about shooting you," Rosie interrupted his thoughts, nuzzling under his chin. "I don't want you getting hurt or killed over me."

"He did it because you're with _me,"_ he said almost lamentably, blaming himself for it now. "He wouldn't have gone after you if we weren't together."

"Don't talk like that," she told him in a firm yet gentle voice. "He's just…he's _crazy_, that's all. He probably would've done it anyway."

She paused before adding, "And…I _might_ have pissed him off when I cursed at him a few days ago."

"You did _what?"_

"I told him to leave you alone and stay away from you," she explained quickly. "And that he'd have to deal with _me_ if he did…with a few colorful words thrown in."

"You always _were_ keeping an eye out for me," Turbo noted admirably, not helping the small smile that formed. "Remember when I crashed in that joke of a race against Rocky? And you were the only one that came to check on me?"

"Yeah and then you started screaming at _me_ about how he made you look stupid on your home turf."

"That's not the point…and I apologized for that. The point is you're always looking out for me, so now it's my turn."

He tenderly lifted her chin up so he could examine her sweet little face; from Day One, he'd always pictured her as an innocent lamb despite her more feisty moments, and right now he couldn't help thinking she looked like a lamb that just escaped the slaughterhouse. He couldn't help but think how young she looked all of a sudden, that despite everything in her life that had wisened her or made her more mature, she was still deep down an eighteen year old girl.

"I know you can take care of yourself, but you're not going anywhere alone for a while," he stated decisively. "That includes going home."

Her brows clenched together to give him an disapproving stare and she opened her mouth to debate this decision of his but he put two fingers over her mouth before she could get a word out. He already knew before he even said anything that she wasn't going to like it.

"Don't argue with me on this. If you need or want to go somewhere, you better have someone with you, understand?"

Rosie's lowered eyes shifted to the side and she huffed quietly, removing his hand from her mouth so she could talk.

"Fine, but I'm not spending the rest of my life being babysat."

"I didn't say it was going to last forever, love," he smiled affectionately, giving her another kiss on the top of her head. "It's just until this blows over."

"What if it _doesn't_?"

"It _will_, Miss Sass," he insisted, giving her one of his roguish grins. "Besides, your hubby happens to be a resourceful guy with an ingenious plan to keep that snake off our backs."

She lightened up at the show of playful arrogance he was demonstrating, giving him a faint smile before snuggling her head down against his.

"It better work, Mr. Resourceful, is all I gotta say."

"Oh, it should. Not sure how _long_ it'll last but he'll leave us alone for a while anyway." Turbo ran his hand through her hair again in a comforting manner before adding, "You know, we _could_ get back in the bed if you wanted to."

"Nah, I'm too comfortable to move right now."

"Yeah, me too." He smirked before adding, "Let me know when you're ready for round three."

"Shush."

* * *

**After the Arcade Closed...**

When Officer Bob felt a hard tap on his shoulder, he turned around cooly to tell whoever it was to buzz the hell off. Thing was, he hadn't expected to be suddenly grabbed by his throat by a member of the most secluded society in all the arcade. He ended up gagging for air as he was pulled up off the floor, his legs dangling and his hands trying to grab at the muscular green arms that held him just tight enough to _not_ suffocate him entirely.

"Listen up, you little _punk_," the ninja turtle known as Raphael growled as he pierced his eyes into Bob's frightened ones. "I'm making a special appearance outside my game _just_ for you so you better pay attention. You mess with my sister or my brother-in-law again, you will be _more_ than sorry. In fact, you better keep the eyes in the back of your head open while you _sleep_."

Bob hadn't expected to have one of _the_ ninja turtles come after him...the plan was for Turbo to come out there threatening to kill him. He was pissed that this plan did not work but at the moment he was too busy concentrating on trying to escape the humanoid reptile to really let it faze him. He croaked out an "okay" and Raphael set him back down on the floor.

The policeman looked up in time to the turtle give him the "I'm watching you" gesture with his fingers before disappearing into the safety of his game.

_Oh, so you think you can outsmart me, eh? Think you can sic your stupid horse and turtle on me? I'll show you, you sneaky son of a bitch. You just wait. _


	24. Word Around Town

_This one is super short guys, my apologies. And Turbo doesn't make an appearance even though he is of course mentioned._

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Turbo hadn't been kidding about having someone chaperone Rosie at every given second of the day. After all, he felt it was his job to protect her and the only way he could do that while still stuck in _Sugar Rush (_Rosie insisted he _wasn't_ getting out of his two-weeks a few days early) was to have someone else do it for him. Calhoun thought it was rather humorous when she whined about how eighteen-year-olds shouldn't need babysitters, though the sergeant _had _been forced to be reigned in by Felix when she first heard the news of the "incident", having wanted to march out there and kill the son of a bitch responsible.

_"Oh, likes to beat up on women, does he? He wants to play rough, I'LL __give him rough! If he ever crosses me, he'll be_ begging _to be locked in a room full of Cy-Bugs instead!"_

Thank goodness Felix has her just as wrapped around his finger as she does him, or else she might would have followed through with her threats.

Even Slim Jim from _Harley Davidson and the Wild West Riders_ got in on the act. Not the babysitting aspect of it, but the keeping an eye on Officer Bob part of it. Whoever reckoned a posse of rough-and-tumble biker cowboys would get so riled up over someone hurtin' that sweet lil' ma'am. Of course they didn't know the details; all anyone really knew was that she'd gotten beat up but that was enough to make anyone upset. Even the kids were mad and they _sure_ didn't know any details, saying that whoever did it deserved a good swift kick to the gumballs.

As with any news, this one traveled fast and everyone was casting wary glances in Bob's direction when they passed by him lounging about in Game Central Station.

"Maybe we've been worrying about the wrong guy this whole time," people started saying amongst themselves.

"Yeah, ol' Turbo hasn't caused any trouble at all since he came back, now that I think of it."

"We probably were a bit hard on him. Those cute little_ Sugar Rush_ kids don't ever have anything bad to say about him, and _they're_ the ones he did wrong to."

"Pretty low going after a guy's wife like that. And he calls himself a police officer."

Bob was not pleased at this turn of events, no sir. In his eyes, he had done nothing but sent a loud-and-clear message to a notorious criminal that he better watch his back or else he find a knife in it.

"What's _wrong_ with these idiots?" he growled lowly at one point, sitting with both Candy and Freddy. "Don't they realize that_ I'm_ the normal one here, that _I_ am the upholder of justice? I can't believe these people!"

"Might have something to do with you going after a little teenage girl," Candy dared mutter under her breath as she sat next to her hippie friend.

Bob scowled at her and stood up to tower over where she still sat. "You insubordinate little whore, don't you_ dare_ talk back to me!"

The busty brunette surprised him when she gave him a dirty glare of her own, standing up from her seat to look him right in the eye. "No, don't _you_ dare talk back to _me_!"

The ginger mustachioed officer was more than shocked at this sudden show of bold defense, as was Freddy, and he could do nothing more than stare at her with a reddened face with his mouth angrily opening and closing like a fish's. How _dare_ she disobey him, who the hell did she think she was?

"You bastard, I've had it with you and your holier-than-thou shit!" Candy kept on, secretly frightened of her own attitude. "I went along with you when this whole Turbo thing got started last week but you're taking things way too far now! You're worse than _he _ever was!"

With that she reared back and slapped his face so hard that it left a red mark on his cheek. _"_That's for all the years of shit I put up with you."

She stormed off, her heels clacking against the tile floor as she did so. Bob put a hand to his burning cheek to try and soothe it, turning his head to glare daringly at Freddy, only to find a large fist being thrown in his face. The cop flew backwards and landed on his back, his head spinning from the punch but he could hear his last remaining ally telling him,

"She's right, Bob, you've gotten waaaay too out of control. Lighten up already, man.

Bob recomposed himself and returned to his usual irate behavior, slowly standing back up from his position on the floor. He could only watch as the large drugged-out hippie walked off after Candy. He spat in their general direction and began screaming,

"_Fine!_ _B__e_ that way! You dumbasses won't last a _day_ without _me_! You'll come back when you realize that I'm the only friend you have! _Bastards_!"

He angrily plopped back down on his bench, grimacing coldly at whoever dared to look at him and causing a few people to shrink back a few feet as they had to pass him. How was this possible, how they could possibly be siding _against_ him? He was a police officer, defender of justice, upholder of the law, they should be _obeying_ him! They should be on _his_ side, not the enemy's! What kind of society had this turned into?

"Fools, every damn one of them are fools," he muttered under his breath as he continued to fume. "I'll show them, I'll show _all_ of them. I know what's best for this place and I'll be damned if I sit back and watch it go down the gutter."

* * *

Rosie stepped out the front door of her house to get some fresh air...and maybe escape the constant babble that Summer and Raven were filling her ears with while they sat in her den. When the redhead stepped one foot onto her porch however, she realized that she had quite the company in her yard. Caught off guard, she shrank back to the door with a wide-eyed look on her face. It was the remaining thirteen criminals from _A.P.B._, most of whom lived in East Niceland as well but not on the same end of the village as she and Turbo lived (their house was more off to the side away from everyone, on the right hand side of the console).

"We ain't here to no start trouble, Rosie," drawled a short hunched-over redneck with beady eyes and an exaggerated pointed chin named Sid Sniper, pushing the edge of his blue beanie cap up from over his eyes. "We come to apologize about whatever wrong ol' Bobby done to ya."

Juan Fingers used one hand to smooth out the side of his poofy black mohawk with a comb and the other hand to tap the ashes from his cigarette butt. "And ta say we had nothin' ta do with it. Candy and Freddy's really the only ones that even hang out with 'im these days."

Cool Hand Duke kept his hands in his red jacket pockets, gazing out calmly through his black sunglasses. "Mm-hmmm," was all he muttered in agreement, being a man of very few words.

They all issued an apology, from the always incinerated-appearing Bernie Gasman to three-eyed Buzz Geiger to drunkard Dick Slob, though it was hard to tell who said what because they all said it at the same time. Summer and Raven peeked out above Rosie's shoulder to see what the deal was and Summer grabbed Rosie by the shoulder to whisper in her ear,

"Don't let those tattooed freaks near you! You might catch something!"

Rosie turned her head at the curly-haired blonde and shrugged her off. "_They_ didn't do anything to me, they're fine."

She turned her attention back to the group, which consisted of a variety of oddly designed men. "Thanks, guys, that's real sweet of you, but you really didn't have to apologize for something you didn't do."

"Well, we felt obligated since he's our colleague," Juan mentioned, still fussing with his hair.

The redhead smiled in appreciation and ended up offering everyone root beer. There wasn't quite enough room in the house for all of them so they just all hung out in the yard. Summer and Raven pointedly opted to stay inside where they didn't have to associate with riff-raff. After a while, Candy and Freddy showed up, both looking antsy being around their former buddies and issued their own apologies as well, with the former prostitute even giving Rosie a tearful hug.

All was well and forgiven.

* * *

If anyone's curious as to what all the A.P.B. criminals look like, just google/bing/whatever "a.p.b. arcade game" and go to the arcade - history . com link and scroll down (might be on the second results page if not the first). They're pretty goofy looking! lol

Also, I've shown this to a few people but if anyone else cares to see what Rosie looks like, I made her up on a character creator program and stuck it on my deviantart page. Just scroll to the bottom of my profile page on and the link is at the very bottom.


	25. The End of the Maze

_To the Guest that asked: Summer has a tan with bouncy curly blonde hair and blue eyes and a slightly curvier build. Raven is a little taller than the other two and is thinner with olive skin, stick-straight black hair and dark brown eyes. (I tried to name them according to their hair color)_

_Ahh, I wish you guys could've seen the smile on my face when I wrote this one, I nearly busted with happiness by the time it was over. Oh, and Turbo said he'd give whoever reviews a piece of chocolate :) _

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

_**Day Twelve of Turbo's Sugar Rush "Vacation"**_

"Laaadieesss and gentlemeeeeen! Booooys and giiirrrls!" Vanellope was calling out in a little microphone that Sour Bill had brought out for her. "And Stinkbrain too."

"Ha. Ha," was the dry, unethused laugh from the back of the crowd.

Vanellope smirked before going on with her practiced speech. "I proudly present to you...our very own..."

She paused to look down beside her with lowered eyes and impatiently whispered, "Bill! Drumroll!."

Sour Bill hadn't been paying attention but snapped to when he heard his name, his giant orbs blinking a few times before registering what was going on. "_Oh_! Uh...rrrrr_rrr_rrrr_rr_."

"Our very own..._Candy Corn Maze_!"

She waved her hand out proudly over the now completed walk-through maze that had taken them exactly twelve days to complete. Before she even had time to say that it was okay to run through it for the first time, all of her co-racers had stampeded to the entrance with a simultaneous cheer of "yaaaaay!". Their president just shrugged at the lost cause, tossed her microphone carelessly at Bill who was accidentally bonked in the head with it, and took off chasing after her friends.

"Tell me again why we have to go through this autumn-colored jungle?" Calhoun leaned down slightly to ask Felix through the side of her mouth, obviously not very happy at having to spend her time wandering around in a maze full of screaming children. "I can't believe I'm making a pun here, but it's kind of corn-y."

"Now, Tammy, it's for the _kids_," Felix gently reminded her as he tried to hide an amused grin from her view. "Besides, Turbo worked very hard on it as well and we need to be supportive."

She gave a quiet "pah!" at that but she decided not to argue any more on the matter. Up ahead, Minty and her two color-swap sisters had taken to riding on Ralph's shoulders and the top of his head, which he really did not approve of since they were digging their shoes into his skin and tearing his hair out. Skittles was prancing about and whinneying at all the visitors he had. The Swizz leaped onto his back, one hand holding onto his black mane and with his other arm pointed forward, shouting,

"Hi yo, Skittles, awaaaaay!"

Turbo had one of his arms thrown around Rosie's shoulders while she had one of her hands in his pocket while they walked, and he had said something close to her ear to make her laugh. Putting a hand next to her mouth, Calhoun called out,

"It's sappy enough around here without you two adding to it!"

The racer twisted his head just enough for the sergeant to catch a cocky grin and he playfully threw the bird at her, to which she in return threw _two_ back. Turbo just shook his head in jest as if he couldn't believe she'd dare do such a vulgar thing and went back to chatting with the missus.

"You know," he started off, lightly running a couple fingers down her arm, "it won't kill you to let me come home a bit early."

"Oh?" Rosie cocked a brow up and gave him a teasing smile. "And what do I get out of the deal?"

The only response he gave was a deep insinuating chuckle and she gave him a playful shove. "Tempting offer but I think you can survive two more days."

"Yeah, can we just skip the Anniversary Party and go straight home?"

"How are you going to see me in my new dress if we do that?" she baited him along.

Turbo's eyes lit up at that but he paused to pretend thinking it over. Then he leaned his head over by her ear to whisper, "Well...you can show it to me real quick before we rip it off."

She hadn't expected that and she slapped a hand over his mouth to shush him up, which only made him chuckle more.

"Don't talk like that in front of _kids_!" she whispered back, glancing behind her to make sure one of them wasn't sneaking around back there.

"Oh you mean, like that _practicing_ comment you made the other day?" he asked in a muffled voice when Rosie didn't pull her hand away.

"SHHH!"

"They both seem to be doing a lot better," Felix mused quietly to his own wife as they continued to walk behind the other couple at a distance, watching them have fun goofing around with each other. "I certainly hope things stay positive for them once he goes back home."

"Oh stop worrying, from what I've been hearing people would rather deal with _him_ than look at that snake in the police uniform."

The handyman clasped his hands in front of him and sighed at the ground. "I just can't believe he'd do something like that. I've never had a problem with him."

"You're not a teenage girl either, apparently," she commented with a scowl, still wishing she was allowed to throw the cop into a pit of Cy-Bugs or even in front of a firing squad composed of her team. "Guy's nuttier than a tree full of rabid squirrels."

"You don't imagine he'll try anything, do you?"

"What, with everyone watching his every move? He'd be a bigger fool than I already took him for."

* * *

What with all the _Sugar Rush_-ians antics, it had taken about two hours to get anywhere close to the end of the maze. It didn't help that Gloyd (who had memorized his hand-drawn map) would purposely get people lost in order to prolong it, which did not sit well with Calhoun. Vanellope and a few of the others would sneak off to themselves sometimes and whisper about something than no one else could hear. Turbo thought he saw them shooting quick glances at him but Rosie would start yakking about something to get his attention off of them, as if she was trying to distract him from noticing.

Or maybe he was just being paranoid-slash-cautious.

However, when they finally _did_ reach close to the maze's end, his suspicions were verified when Vanellope came up to him and said,

"All right, you have to close your eyes now!"

Turbo stared at her in a wary fashion then cast the same expression at all the other children, who were humorously enough all wearing identical wide toothy grins as if attempting to radiate innocence. Ralph managed to hide a smile and shrugged his shoulders as if to say that he knew nothin' about nothin'. Calhoun looked as confused as Turbo did until Felix waved her down and whispered something in her ear, to which she gave a small crooked smile and nodded her head once in understanding. Turbo glanced over at Rosie who was trying to keep her level of enthusiasm toned down but as usual she was unable to, her cheerful grin and bounciness giving her away.

"You _know_ I don't care for surprises," he forcefully muttered to her, feeling more than uneasy.

She placed a firm grip on his shoulder to reassure him. "I _promise_ you'll like _this_ one."

He knew better than to argue with her if she was going so far as to _promise_ him, so he sighed and reluctantly closed his eyes. He heard a few giggles coming from the children which made him more antsy and then felt someone (Rosie) push him from behind to get him moving forward without walking into anything. After about three minutes of this ridiculous and somewhat humiliating behavior, he heard Vanellope yell out for him to stop so he did and Rosie squeezed both of his shoulders from behind to let him know everything was perfectly fine.

Turbo's stomach was twisted into a mess of knots, having no idea what to expect. The only thing he could hear was some giggles coming from a few of the kids. He felt himself start to get annoyed but then finally he heard Vanellope say,

"Okay, you can open them now!"

His eyes landed immediately on what the children had showcased in the grassy field and he was so taken aback that he didn't even jump when they all yelled "SURRRRPRIIIIISE!". He stood there looking completely dumbfounded and he turned his head to look at Rosie as if to check to make sure this was real. She had tears brimming her eyes but she had a big smile on her face, and she gave him a shooing motion with her hands to coax him to look again. He turned back around to stare at his gift, and stammer out,

"Is...is that my...?"

"Well, not the _real_ one of course," Vanellope butted in from her place close to his right. "It's as close to a replica as you're gonna get though."

It was kart composed of a red velvet cake body with an elongated front, a thick stripe of white icing on either side, Oreo cookies for the wheels, a black licorice steering wheel, and a chocolate sponge cake for the seat. It even had a spoiler in the back just like the old one.

He heard Rosie say behind him, "I couldn't remember _all_ the details so I hope it looks all right."

Turbo's heart busted with joy and the biggest smile spread across his face. He spun around and grabbed Rosie by the face and gave her a big "mwah!" kiss so fast that she almost wasn't sure it actually happened.

"All right?" he repeated hoarsely, turning back around to look at _his_ kart. "It's _turbo-tastic_!"

Vanellope grinned when she saw the excitement written on his face and she started to ask, "So you like it?" but she only got the first three words out. She found herself suddenly picked up off the ground and squeezed like a teddy bear by her former nemesis in a choking hug.

"I _love_ it, thank you, thank you, _thank you_!"

Ralph leaned over to Felix and said, "Never thought I'd see _that_ in a million years," to which Felix just chuckled and nodded. "I guess this means we need to build him a garage now."

The handyman slapped his forehead lightly. "Jimminy jamminy, he's gonna be even pickier about _that_ than he was the _house_."

"Air...need...air..." gasped Vanellope, her face starting to turn red from being hugged so long.

Turbo placed her back down on the ground so she could pant some oxygen into her lungs before bounding over to examine the kart, almost too scared to touch it in fear that this was a dream and it would disappear on contact like a double-striped candy cane branch.

"I can't _believe_ you guys!" he exclaimed, gently leaning over to look inside the cab at the pedals. "It looks almost exactly like my old one!"

"It was really Taffyta's idea!" declared Candlehead loudly as she pointed over at the now mortified strawberry racer, who had wanted to remain anonymous.

"I...uh...hey, don't read too much into it," she spat out, composing herself as quickly as possible. "I just thought it would snap you out of your funk, is all. Can't do what you're programmed to do if you don't have a vehicle, you know. And don't you _dare_ hug me."

She pointed her lollipop at him with a warning glare.

"I think I like that kid," Calhoun muttered under her breath with an amused grin.

"And it runs on chocolate syrup!" Candlehead continued happily. "It's all filled up and everything!"

Turbo wiped the corner of his eye with the back of his hand, completely overwhelmed by the extreme kindness. "Thanks everybody...this...this means a lot."

"You're not supposed to cry," Jubileena whispered to him from the side and he patted her on top of her head to let her know he was fine.

Minty stepped up and cleared her throat. "Also, we decided to dedicate the Lemonade Loop to you, that track you crashed in a couple weeks ago? We sorta dubbed it the Turbonade Track."

"Just don't tear it up anymore!" Torvald piped up, prompting a laugh out of everyone.

Turbo smiled and rolled his eyes playfully, but he crossed his heart with a finger, saying, "I promise to take good care of it, racer's honor."

Vanellope glitched her way through her friends to where Turbo could see her and patted her hand on the side of the kart. "_Wellll_...are you gonna jump in and take it for a test-drive or _what?_"

The idea of driving again was more than his code could handle. It had been several months since he had driven an actual car, candy-based or otherwise (the motorcycle that had been lent to him by Slim Jim didn't count, in his eyes anyway), and now here he was with his very own kart. Not one that he had stolen as his own, like King Candy's had been or a borrowed one, but _his_. The familiar feel of ownership fit him like a glove and he hopped over the side to sit himself behind the wheel.

"Kinda roomy in here."

"Yeah, well, we thought we'd give you one of the bigger cabs in case you wanted Rosie to ride with you sometime," Vanellope whispered to him as she rested her arms against the side, throwing in a sly smile before adding, "Know what I mean?"

His cheeks turned a faint shade of pink at the implying tone she used, wondering in the back of his mind how these nine year olds even knew anything about _"certain things_" to crack jokes about it.

"Take it for a spin already!" he heard Taffyta shout at him impatiently.

Turbo looked over at Rosie expectantly, but she shook her head and waved her hands at him to tell him to go on and enjoy a solo drive. There'd be plenty of time later on for her to ride along. He gave her a little smile and he turned his eyes back to the kart itself, starting the engine and hearing the oh-so-familiar purr it gave. He felt his very code come alive at the sound and he gripped the steering wheel in front of him with both hands.

And he drove.

* * *

The wind whipped at his face as he soared alone down the Cake Way, the track comprised solely of chocolate cake, the scenery flying by in a blur. God, he missed doing this! Maneuvering around turns, dodging obstacles, living in the moment, the rush of adrenaline in his veins, it all came flooding back to him instantaneously.

He couldn't believe the very people that he had once hurt, most of whom he had thought so little of, had gone through all this trouble to do something so thoughtful for him as to make him his very own kart! It was so awe-inspiring, so downright mind-blowing that he couldn't wrap his head around it. They had all forgiven him and accepted him as part of their family. It was a miracle that they all deemed him worthy enough of this honor, that they had seen _something _in him that convinced them to give him a chance.

He screeched to a stop when he got halfway the lone Cake Mountain, which overlooked the entire world of _Sugar Rush_. It looked so breathtakingly beautiful from up here, with the sun shining down through the cotton candy clouds and highlighting every bright and delicious color that made up the world. Everything hit him like a ton of bricks and a happy cry erupted from him as all the emotions poured out. He felt that his life was pieced back together and that everything that had been wrong with it, everything that had been haunting him, had vanished like the ghosts they were. Weights that been on his shoulders for so long were now removed and he felt lighter and more free than he had in a long time.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, he actually loved his life...and he loved himself.


	26. Get This Party Started

_HOLY GOBSTOPPERS, you guys, I almost cried with joy when my inbox kept getting bombarded with such lovely reviews! XD Keep them cooomiinngg *sing song voice* _

___Turbo: I DID cry when I realized how much chocolate I had to give away...*gives everyone that reviewed chocolate as promised then cries in corner*_

_( Thanks, mosspath, I try to treat her like a real person and work hard to steer away from the dreaded Mary Sue-ness. I'm so relieved that everyone seems to like her! And to Apple, I sort of dubbed them "Turbosie" lol ;) )  
_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

Gloyd raced towards his pumpkin house as soon as the arcade closed. Tonight was the night of the Anniversary Party at _Dance Dance Revolution_! He couldn't wait to prank some fresh victims outside of_ Sugar Rush_ for a whole night and was mentally preparing a list in his head of whoopie cushions, hand buzzers, that stuff you put in people's drinks to make them pee blue later, and-

_SPLAT!_

A pumpkin pie was unexpectedly slammed into his face as soon as he opened the door. Blind but not deaf, he could only hear someone slowly stroll up to him and pull the dessert off his face and then wipe his eyes to where he could at least open them. Turbo grinned down at him victoriously and spun the pie plate on one of his fingers.

"Payback's never been sweeter."

* * *

The arcade had been closed for roughly ten minutes when one of Yuni's bouncers was walking along to go to his designated station when someone in a blue uniform jumped out and shoved a stun gun right at his abdomen. A jolting spark surged through the bouncer's code as he flickered himself into a near coma, collapsing face first on the ground. The mysterious attacker grinned darkly and dragged the unconscious man to a nearby closet, making sure no one could see him, and tossed him inside. Then he straightened up his tie and sneaked into _Dance Dance Revolution_...to hide and wait.

* * *

"Hold still!" Turbo said firmly as he was stooped down in front of Gloyd to fix his little brown bow tie that went along with his orange suit.

The annoyed prankster had his eyes fixed in a glare with his shoulders sagged down and his back hunched over. "I don't wanna wear this dopey outfit! We never had to dress up when _you_ threw the Anniversary Party."

"Quit your whining; if Schweetz wants you guys to dress up, then you'll dress up. There, done."

Turbo tried to hold a chuckle back at the deep scowl on the boy's face, who trumped over to the mirror in the bathroom to look at himself.

"Ugh, I look like _such_ a_ loser_!" he groaned, running his hands through his perfectly combed hair to make it messy again.

"Hey, it took forever for me to fix that!" he heard Turbo whine from his place at the door, even though he himself had his hair messed up in a controlled tousle.

"I'm not going out in public looking like a dweeb!" Gloyd insisted, tugging at his shirt collar as if it made him uncomfortable. "It's bad enough I'm wearing a stupid bow tie!"

"Hey, don't knock the bow tie, pumpkin head."

Gloyd stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes in response. At that time, Rancis and Swizzle dropped by; Rancis had a milk chocolate suit on with a darker brown bow tie, fixing the curl on his head as always and looking right at home in his fancy clothes; the Swizz had a blue suit on with a green bow tie and had his hands in his pockets looking just as cool as usual, a relaxed look on his face.

"I think I should wear this more often," Rancis was saying as he shoved Gloyd out of his way to check out how he looked...for the hundredth time. "I look exquisite."

Gloyd stuck his finger down his throat and made little gagging noises, to which Turbo had to stifle a laugh at. Rancis could be so dramatic sometimes.

"You think the ladies will like?" Swizzle asked as he pointed to himself with a smug grin.

"Only if they like total losers," Gloyd muttered under his breath.

Turbo buttoned up his own tux, the same one he wore for his wedding since he didn't much other option, and swung open the front door before clearing his throat at the boys.

"Speed it up, ladies," he told them, motioning them to go out the door.

Rancis had a huge grin on his face as he paraded himself out at the front of the line, Swizzle playfully rolled his eyes at him as he followed with a lazy smile on his face, and Gloyd brought up the caboose with the same scowl he was wearing earlier.

"Hey, turn that frown upside," Turbo grinned at him as the boy passed him, then shut the door behind him as he exited himself.

"Very funny. All things considered, I _guess _I'll kinda miss having a roommate, even if it was _you."_

"Thanks, and I'll miss being having you as a gracious host even if you _did_ greet me with a pie to my face and turned me into your maze slave for two weeks."

* * *

Turbo had to admit that he was more than nervous about entering Game Central Station for the first time in two weeks. His last few trips there had not exactly been welcoming, not to mention he was concerned about seeing Officer Bob. Not that he was scared of him of course, he was worried that he might not be able to control his anger upon actually_ seeing_ the man after what he had done to Rosie.

Vanellope was in her formal princess attire for once, much to her disliking, but she had reasoned that if she was going to play hostess at her own party that she had better wear it, especially if she was visiting another game. Then she decided that if _she_ had to wear this goofy get-up, then everyone _else_ should have to dress up as well. All the little girls looked cute in their own dresses, not as fancy as Vanellope's of course, but they still cleaned up nice.

"You still nervous about being out here?" the president asked Turbo after they had exited Sugar Rush and made their way over to DDR's portal.

"Just a little," he confessed, looking around him out of habit for any sign of danger.

Vanellope patted him on the arm comfortingly. "Don't worry, you'll be okay with us."

He gave her a warm smile of appreciation. "I know I will."

Almost as if he jinxed himself, that's when he saw Bowser of all people coming his way. Oh crap, last time Turbo saw him, the giant Koopa King had nearly incinerated him! Not unsurprisingly, the racer was a wee bit anxious upon seeing the iconic villain again, who now towered over him as he looked down at him.

"I just wanted to say..." He seemed to be struggling with the next part. "I'msorryforalmostkillingyou."

Turbo relaxed considerably upon hearing the apology and he blinked in surprise.

"We were all talkin', us guys at Bad-Anon, and we all reasoned that we jumped the gun with you," Bowser continued as he fiddled with one of his spiked arm bracelets, not looking very comfortable at having been the one to pick the short straw on who was going to apologize to Turbo. "We didn't give you much of a chance to really show that you changed and all so...yeah, we're all sorry."

Turbo was rather shocked at this unexpected mini-speech but he smiled nonetheless and said, "No hard feelings. I probably wouldn't have wanted me around either."

"All right...well, if you ever want to hang out or something, you're more than welcome to." Bowser looked around to make sure no one else was listening before adding, "And if anyone gives you any trouble, just tell me and I'll spit fire on them."

* * *

Even though the arcade had only been closed for an hour, DDR was already hopping with life as the music blared and the colorful lights lit up in random patterns in the otherwise darkened game. Pink's "Get the Party Started" was currently playing and many people were dancing on the floor to it in an almost feverish state, most of them not really knowing what they were doing. Turbo thought to himself that the music of the current time was _much_ different than what he remembered listening to.

Yuni had not ordered the gray-skinned racer thrown out as he had expected she would; in fact, she didn't give him any trouble at all. It was rather perplexing yet at the same time it felt perfectly natural because this was how it was _supposed_ to be...how it _used_ to be. He never got thrown out of places back in the 80's so it was nice to get treated like a normal person again.

Come to think of it, most everybody that was visiting the game were leaving him largely alone, save for a few telling him "well, hey there!", "how's it going?", "haven't seen you in a while". It weirded him out at first but it didn't take long for him to get used to it. After all, this _was_ the normal way of doing things.

Felix, Ralph, and Calhoun had all shown up of course; Felix was in his light blue dress shirt with darker blue vest over it; Calhoun was wearing a knee-length navy pencil skirt and matching uniform top as it was her professional officer's outfit; Ralph simply wore a white short-sleeved dress shirt and some black pants as he blatantly refused to wear anything more and no one was dumb enough to argue with him, not even Vanellope.

"I don't like this lousy no-weapons policy that blondie has," Calhoun fussed out loud, referring to Yuni, as she sat with one leg crossed over the other and her arms crossed, wishing that she was anywhere else but here in this dumb skirt.

Felix patted her hand soothingly. "It's probably so someone doesn't get all excited and shoot off by accident."

The sergeant threw her head and laughed as her more perverted mind twisted his innocent sentence into something else entirely, and poor Felix just sat there with this adorably befuddled look on his face, scratching the side of his head in confusion.

Ralph just stared at her blankly then muttered something about married people and took a bored sip of his punch.

Yuni had allowed an ice cream station for the night against one wall of the expansive dance floor and everybody that came in tonight would be allowed to get a free bowl (so long as they cleaned up any melting drips that fell on the floor). As to be expected, the kids all were hungry after a day of racing so most of them headed straight for their favorites. Turbo took the oppurtunity to head for the adults, careful not to get in anyone's way. Felix smiled in his usual friendly manner and said,

"So, how's it feel being out in society again?"

The racer took another look at the huge crowd of people that had gathered in the game and it felt oddly relaxing that none of them were really paying him much attention.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually glad I'm not in the spotlight."

The handyman's smile grew bigger, never thinking he would ever _hear_ that. "You'll be happy to know that Ralph and I already started working on your garage. We're trying to make it match the rest of the house, but don't expect anything too grand."

Turbo waved a dismissive hand. "Ahh, don't worry about that, I just need enough room for when I need to do repairs."

He felt someone poke him in the ribs from behind and say, "Hey, handsome", which prompted him to turn around and then deliver a slight jaw drop. Rosie looked remarkably fetching in her classy black dress with a scooped neck and little scalloped sleeves which showcased a pearl necklace she had borrowed from someone. It hit about mid-thigh which wasn't _too_ terribly short but it was much shorter than what she was accustomed to wearing. She had her hair up in a pretty up-do and had a pair of pearl earrings on.

Where the heck she got all that from, Turbo didn't know and he honestly didn't care.

"You look _beautiful_," he finally complimented her once he got over the initial shock at seeing her all fussed up.

Rosie smiled bashfully and picked at the dress's hem, worrying that it was too short when it really wasn't.

"You clean up _real_ nice, Missus Turbo," the Swizz suddenly spoke up from out of nowhere, giving her a lop-sided grin and having his thumb and pointer finger in an "A-okay" gesture.

"Beat it, Malarkey," Turbo said bluntly, not even bothering to look down at the boy.

"_Fine,_ I'll just go talk to Candlehead then."

"_Fine,_ go talk to..." The older racer quickly glanced down when it hit him what Swizzle had just said. "Wait, what?"

He didn't get an answer but he thought it was odd that the pint-sized Romeo would single _Candlehead_ out. Apparently, he thought that her obtuse nature was the same thing as playing "hard to get". Turbo watched the Swizz casually stroll his way over to the ice cream station to hang out with his current target, and she cheerfully handed him whatever his favorite flavor of the frozen dessert was.

"Oh my lands!" Felix groaned suddenly from his seat, placing a palm against his cheek as realization struck him. "I just got what was so funny about what I said earlier."

Calhoun laughed some more then ruffled his hair affectionately, which only deepened the shade of the honeyglows he now had. "Don't worry, short stack, just be glad you don't have that problem."

"_TAMMY_!"

* * *

_**One Hour Later**_

After countless glasses of punch, Ralph had to take care of some personal business and he carefully made his way towards where the men's bathroom was without tripping or falling on top of someone. There was a wall partition in front of the rest area so that people could wait in privacy. Ralph was just about to go inside when he realized the door was locked. Occupied. _Great_.

So he stood there with his back slightly turned away waiting for whoever was in there to hurry up and get done already. After an eternity of mentally telling himself to hold it in just a while longer, the door finally swung open and he was about to run over whoever had come out but-

He gave the couple a flat look. "_Really_, guys? The _restroom_?"

"She was helping me with my _zipper_," Turbo replied cheekily with a self-satisfied air of smugness about him, his tux in complete disarray what with the tie undone and a hastily tucked in undershirt. Rosie had such a red look on her face it almost matched her hair color and she tried to tuck a few stray locks that had fallen back where they had originally been placed.

"Yeah, it...um...got stuck, haha," she chuckled weakly, avoiding the wrecker's gaze.

All Ralph said was "uh-huh" and then muttered something about married people for the second time that night and disappeared into the men's room.

Turbo lightly patted his humiliated wife on the butt and whispered, "Might want to go to your _own_ restroom and fix yourself back up better, love."

"Speak for yourself, champ," she quipped back, pointedly twirling her fingers around his undone bow tie before turning around to do as she was told.

"Hurry up, we have a staircase and a dining table calling for us," he told her jokingly as she disappeared behind the door, knowing that she heard him because she giggled.

"SWEET MOTHER OF BRICKS, MY PEE IS BLUE!" he heard Ralph scream from the men's room. Turbo watched with amused interest as the wrecker came out a mere fifteen seconds later, taking time to pull his pants up thank goodness, and issued a glare towards the racer.

"Where...is...Orangeboar?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

"Last I saw, he had Vanellope's tiara and had her chasing him around the dance floor with it."

Ralph nodded once and then set out on his mission to punk the prankster. Turbo chuckled to himself and shook his head, wondering where the heck the kid had managed to find something that turned pee blue. He wondered how long it would be before _everyone_ hunted down the little pumpkin prince. Just imagining it made him laugh. He saw Candlehead out the corner of his eye in her little pink dress with brown polka dots but instead of wearing her usual enthusiastic grin, she looked frightened.

"Mister Turbo, watch out!"

He turned around only to be greeted with a punch to the face.


	27. Blow Up

_Wow, okay, THIS is now officially the longest story word-count wise that I have ever written, butting out its predecessor "That Little Game Called Life". It's a wonder my fingers don't hurt. Hope y'all enjoy, just ONE MORE CHAPTER! :)  
_

* * *

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

He was hit so hard that he stumbled back a few paces then found himself being rammed into the ground with Officer Bob's hands wrapped around his throat, fully intent on choking him to death right there behind the privacy wall in DDR. Turbo's self-defense mode kicked in and he started trying to work his legs between him and the policeman to start kicking him off, and then grabbed at his wrists in an attempt to pry his hands off his neck.

"Son of a bitch! Because of you, everyone thinks _I'm_ the enemy!" the psychotic cop spat angrily, his eyes flaring with hatred and his lips peeled back in a snarl. "_You're_ the one that deserves being ostracized, _not me_!"

Candlehead had thankfully worn her namesake hat to the party and she shouted, "You leave Mister Turbo alone!" right before taking her hat off and shoving the lit candle against Bob's face.

He hadn't expected on getting burned and he instinctively grabbed at his scorched cheek with one of his hands, resulting in Turbo being free to breathe and also get in his own punch. Bob's head flew back from impact and the racer bent a knee up so he could kick him in the chest, which made him fly off onto his back.

"Candles, _move_!" Turbo demanded of the little girl as he picked himself up off the floor.

She ran out onto the dance floor while Bob took opportunity to charge right into his nemesis, briefly knocking the wind out of him as the two went crashing into a nearby unoccupied table and chairs. A group nearby screamed at the sudden fight that had erupted and Bob punched Turbo again while he had the upper hand. Rosie came out of the restroom and went into a panic when she saw what was going on, then forced herself into action by grabbing her husband's attacker by the back of his shirt.

"Get the _hell_ off him, dickface!"

Bob swung around and punched her in the eye, making her back away and start crying with her hand over her face. Turbo's face drew up into an angry scowl when he saw that and he grabbed Bob by the collar of his uniform.

"Keep your _god_damn _paws_ off my _wife!_" he growled before punching him in the nose hard enough to knock the man back, crashing him into yet another table.

This prompted the DJ to quit playing the music (Ke$ha's "Blow" was halfway over) and everyone's attention went towards the two men spinning and crashing into things like a miniature tornado. Everyone moved quickly out of the way to keep from getting knocked into; a few people let out a few screams. Finally, Bob managed to fling Turbo off when they were somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, the latter falling into a clumsy sitting position. Ralph and Calhoun had worked their way through the panicking crowd to try and help but that's when Bob did something no one expected.

Since he had gotten the bouncer out of the way when the arcade closed, he hadn't had to go through the mandatory weapons check that Yuni had in place. He pulled his pistol out and aimed it right at Turbo, who froze in his spot on the floor. Everyone gasped and backed up considerably, and Calhoun muttered something about how she _knew_ not having her own gun with her was a bad idea.

"Anyone comes near me, I shoot you _and_ him," Bob warned in a snarl, his eyes glinting with rage as trickles of blood came out his nose and corners of his mouth. He looked like a man possessed, hell bent on revenge against someone that hadn't done a thing to him.

Turbo's heart pounded hard in his chest, anxiety growing at both the fact he had a gun pointed at him and also that he was practically being put on display here what with everyone looking at him. He had leaned back slightly when he first saw the gun, having to hold his hands back behind him with palms on the floor to hold himself up and keep from falling backwards.

Rosie had both hands over her mouth in shock and fear as she could do nothing but watch helplessly as her husband got threatened at gunpoint. If there had been a chance that Bob wouldn't act on his threat, she would've dared run up to jump-kick him in the face. Ralph and Calhoun were fuming mad at the inability to try anything, while Felix displayed a look that was a mix of concern and anger.

"Bob, put down the gun before you hurt someone," the handyman tried to reason with him.

"Shut the hell up, Fix-It," Bob snapped at his former friend. "Any good blood we had between us was tainted when you let this...this..._murderer,_ this _criminal_ live in your game."

"You doodie face!" Turbo heard Vanellope call out from somewhere in the back.

"You _idiots_!" Bob kept preaching to the crowd, giving brief glances around him to make sure someone didn't try anything. "You're content on letting this monster live free among us after all he's done, willing to forgive him like a bunch of mindless sheep? Have you all lost your damn minds? He's a selfish homicidal _maniac_!"

"All we see is _you_ waving a gun around and threatening to shoot anyone that moves!" Calhoun barked at him, her fists clenched tightly.

"And you're saying _he's_ the crazy one?" Yuni piped up from the back, obviously pissed off at this standoff taking place in her territory, not to mention the fact that someone broke her rules about weapons.

Different remarks sounded from around the room, most of them angry and hailed at Bob. Turbo's eyes were darting in different directions at all the people that were standing up for him, feeling both embarrassed and at the same time uplifted. Amazing that only two weeks ago it had been a completely different story. Bob was growing more and more outraged at this turn of events in the racer's favor, his facial features developing a more evil twist to them.

It seemed like this situation would have dragged on forever until out of nowhere, what appeared to be a scoop of Neapolitan ice cream went flying through the air and splatted against Bob's cheek. The sudden cold sting startled the police officer so much that he was momentarily distracted enough for Calhoun to leap forward and swipe his legs out from under him and then kick the gun away from him.

Turbo glanced over in the direction he had seen the ice cream come from and saw Gloyd with a slingshot he had snuck in giving him a thumbs up. Ralph had placed one of his huge fists on top of Bob's torso to prevent him from escaping or causing any damage, glaring down at him as if to dare him to even _think_ about fighting against him. Rosie let out a shuddering sigh of relief, her lungs burning from holding her breath so long, and she tore through the people that she was behind in the crowd to kneel down and squeeze Turbo into tight hug. He wrapped one arm around her, keeping his eyes fixed in front of him on his attacker and breathing deeply to get oxygen into his own lungs.

Yuni pushed herself out of the crowd and stormed over to Bob, leaning over his face so he could see the furious look she was wearing. "You are _so_ banished from this game."

"Whoop-dee-doo," he muttered dryly as he continued to lay supine with Ralph's fist pinning him to the floor.

That's when M. Bison of all people stepped forth into view, people wisely moving out of his way. Turbo tensed up a little when he saw the enormous caped fighter, memories of getting punched by him almost three weeks ago making him experience phantom pain in his face. However, it wasn't Turbo that Bison was after.

"Want me to toss him?" he asked Yuni, who simply nodded and crossed her arms across her chest. The fighter had to kneel a bit to grab Bob by his collar while Ralph drew his fist up off of him at the same time.

"Let go of me, you overgrown buffoon!" growled Bob as he was carried out of the game, his little legs swinging in mid-air as he tried uselessly to kick at the muscular man. Other idle threats and fussings could be heard from the little cop as he was toted away.

Turbo rubbed Rosie on the back, asking, "You all right, sweetie?"

"I'll be fine, champ," she replied quietly, pulling back a bit so she could see his face. She saw him wince when he saw her now swollen eye which had turned a nice shade of red.

Felix bounced up and healed the both of them quick as possible, all injuries from the fight disappearing instantly.

"Geez, Turbo, can you go to an anniversary party without getting into some kind of tussle?" he questioned his friend with a smile as he helped the two of them up.

"What are you...oh, yeah." He had almost forgotten about how he and Teddy had gotten into a fistfight on _TurboTime's_ tenth anniversary...the night before he game-jumped into _RoadBlasters_ and changed his life and everyone else's forever.

Vanellope, whose hair-do was falling all over her face after Gloyd messed it up earlier, shoved her way through the crowd and crawled up Ralph's arm to get on top of his shoulder and cupped her hands around her mouth so she could announce, "Okay, people, show's over! Let's get back to my party!"

Almost as if she had spoken magic words, the music started up again (Owl City's "Good Time") and everyone went back to doing whatever it was they were doing before being interrupted. Some people patted both Turbo and Rosie on the shoulder to ask if they were okay. Vanellope crawled back down Ralph's arm and started shouting again for Gloyd to give her that tiara back or he was banned from racing for a whole week, to which he just stuck his tongue out and gave her the run around again. Ralph decided to help her out since he hadn't gotten his payback yet for the blue urine joke.

Calhoun turned Bob's gun over in her hand in observation after she had picked it up and then tossed it to Felix, who fumbled some while trying to catch it. "Here, short stack, something more your size for when you come shooting with me."

"Oh, um...thanks, honeybunch," he smiled nervously, still not having gotten eased up about firing a weapon even though they frequented the shooting range a good bit.

"You don't think Bob will try something _again_, do you?" Rosie asked Turbo as they decided to retire to an empty table to sit and relax for a few minutes, understandable given the scare they'd just had.

"I hope not," he responded, putting a hand over hers. "Hopefully he took a page out of _my_ book and realized getting pissed off and violent doesn't get you anywhere."

She smiled at him and gave his hand a squeeze, so proud and happy that he had gotten over all the issues he'd been dealing with for so long. "Love you, champ."

"Love you too, pretty girl."

* * *

**Meanwhile, in Grand Central Station...**

"I order you to put me down this _instant! _I am an _officer_ of the_ law_, you should be arrested for obstructing_ justice_! I have _rights_, you know! I'll make sure to shut down every illegal keg party you _Street Fighters_ throw if you don't release me_ immediately_!"

Officer Bob hadn't shut up fuming and fussing at M. Bison the entire time they had been gone from DDR. The caped fighter was getting more and more infuriated and impatient with this little mustached punk and by the time they finally made it to the Station, he'd had _enough_.

"Here, how's _this_ for a release?" M. Bison bit irritably as he reared back and literally threw Bob through the air and then turned right around to head back to the party.

What he _didn't_ see was Bob crashing into Sonic's video display sign, the same one that Turbo had rolled into a mere three weeks ago when _he_ got booted from DDR. Only difference, Bob actually was slammed hard enough to crack Sonic's face and the electricity within it shot sparks into his body, causing the whole display to malfunction.

_"If if if yoou yooou d-d-d-diiiie oout out-out-side yooouurrr own own g-gaame game, yyou-yoou d-d-d-d-don't regen-regen-regen err ate ev-ev-ever! Game game game ov-ov-ov-er_!"

He screamed in agony as he literally hovered in mid-air as the deadly voltage, intensified by short circuiting the taser he had in his back pocket, fried his very code. He flickered into different shades of blues and purples, glitching madly until all that could be seen was straight binary code, then a small _blip_ sound was heard.

Nobody ever saw Officer Bob again.


	28. Turbo-Tastic

**Save Me from My Dark Side**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

It was Monday, the one day of the week that Litwak kept the arcade closed all day. As a reward to themselves for working all week, the majority of game characters whose games were still in working order liked to sleep in a few extra hours. The people of Niceland were no exception to this.

Well, _almost_ all of them.

_KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!  
_

Felix groggily opened his eyes when he heard someone beating on his door, raising a hand to lazily rub the sleep out of his eyes. Next to him was Calhoun, who groaned at the interruption in her slumber and threw her pillow over her head, mumbling something in a muffled voice that he had better get rid of whoever was at the door. Felix let out a yawn and stretched before sliding out of bed, his eyes barely cracked open and moving at a slower pace than he usually did.

He got to the front door and opened it to see who was there and...

**_HOOOOOONK!_**

"AHHHHHHH!"

Felix screamed at the sudden deafening noise of an air horn being blown right in his face, his eyes now bugged out and his mind scrambling to wake itself up more, and he fell promptly on his bottom with his hands pressed to his ringing ears.

"Rise and shine, Fix-It!" he heard the cheerful voice of Turbo telling him. Felix gazed up at his racer friend's smiling face with an almost dazed expression.

"My _ears_!" Felix whined, not paying any attention to whatever his friend said. "I think they're _bleeding_!"

"Oh heal thyself," Turbo dismissed him, his smile not fading. "Don't dilly-dally, today's my first race in my new car!"

Rosie was slightly behind and to the side of her excitable husband, wearing her official cheerleading outfit (pink v-neck top with long-sleeve yellow undershirt) complete with pom poms which she was shaking to get the point across. She had her hair up in a high ponytail with long strands of pink and red ribbons hanging from the elastic band, a big smile on her face.

"Don't just lay there!" the racer was prodding him. "Wake up the missus and get a move on!"

He grabbed Rosie by one of her wrists to run away from the door, and Felix thought he heard Rosie say something about how they better not stick around to chat when they woke Ralph up in a similar fashion.

"Jimminy jamminy, why do these things always happen to _me_?"

* * *

"I hope Ralph doesn't hold a grudge at having an air horn wake-up call," Rosie fretted as she sat in her hubby's lap while they drove through Game Central Station on their way to _Sugar Rush_.

"Well, at least we didn't give him much of a chance to chase us before we hopped in the getaway car," he replied, keeping an arm around her while he drove.

They were just about to go into the _Sugar Rush_ portal when Surge Protector blipped into view and Turbo issued a curse under his breath as he came to a stop.

"I already know who _you_ are," the holographic security man droned out as he adjusted his glasses. "Just don't go tearing it up in there with your shiny new car and don't go racing up and down the Station like it's your personal racetrack."

Turbo grinned and gave him a mock salute. "No worries, Surgie."

The balding hologram lowered his eyes at him. "Don't call me that," he snipped before blipping away.

"Fine, I'll call you Grafitti Artist," Turbo quipped back sarcastically to the now empty spot where Surge Protector once stood.

"I heard that," was the voice that was heard even though no one was physically there.

The couple exchanged spooked glances and then looked around to see if maybe the blue man was just playing some joke on them. He wasn't, of course, as he was not a jokester type person.

"He probably sees and hears _everything, _the little spy," Turbo whispered as he quietly drove into the _Sugar Rush_ tunnel.

* * *

Rosie had never been to a _Sugar Rush_ race before so she was overly excited about seeing one. The last race she had been to was over in _TurboTime_ so the whole experience was completely new to her. There were still bleachers to sit in, but instead of overlooking the entire track, you had to watch it take place on the Jumbo-Tron screen which she thought was a little odd but still cool at the same time. Everything was so much bigger and grander here that it took a little getting used to.

All the racers started showing up in their own karts and all the stands were filling up with the various assortment of candy NPC's. Vanellope had just gotten into her royal candy box stand and was waiting on everyone to get into position before she actually said anything, Sour Bill at her side as usual holding the microphone for her. She always began the race in the same way that "King Candy" used to do, with an enthusiastic greeting, before hopping into her own car.

This would be Turbo's first race since the one he was in whenever his King Candy disguise was dropped and everyone discovered that he was still alive. It would be odd for Vanellope to be racing with him, seeing as how the last time they had raced together he had tried to kill her. But things were different now, they were all friends and things would be fair and square. She never dreamed she'd actually be friends with her former tormentor but as she had said a while back..."past is past".

Since it wasn't a Random Roster Race or an actual gameplay session, the weapons in the game were deactivated and therefore not available for use. Even the giant gumballs that regularly rolled in Gumball Alley were stopped high above in their stations where they waited for a Quarter Alert to release them. Turbo was for one grateful for this because now that he didn't have King Candy's avatar to offer him some protection, he would surely be killed and he certainly didn't want that to happen now that his life was running smoothly again.

"Good luck, champ," Rosie smiled at him before giving him a little nose rub. "And _be careful_."

"I will, I promise," he reassured her with his own smile, drawing her in for a hug. "I never said 'thank you' for not giving up on me."

Her grin grew wider as she hugged him back. "What kind of number one fan would I be if I'd done _that_?"

He chuckled at that. "Consider me yours, love," he told her, stealing a quick kiss from her before she ran off to join their Nicelander friends in the stand, who all waved down at him.

Turbo threw a thumbs up at them before jumping into his red velvet kart. He had to say this particular vehicle was much better than either of the other ones he had...because this one was made by his new friends as a _gift_. It had been made with _love_, thus making it more personal to him. He was definitely going to take special care of this one.

He heard Vanellope do her spill about starting the race before sliding down into her own kart. Everyone started their engines, a loud roar of simultaneous mechanical energy being forced to hold back until the green light was given. Turbo flexed his fingers around the steering wheel, his eyes focused straight in front of him, waiting for the go ahead.

_THREE!_

_TWO!_

_ONE!_

_(Here it comes!)_

_GOOOOOOO!_

* * *

God, how he missed racing! Driving in general was great and all but actually taking part in a competitive race against other similarly skilled individuals just made the whole experience _turbo-tastic_. He loved the sheer energy that came with passing the others, weaving around them to claim the desired and much sought after first place position. This was what he was made for, this is what he _lived _for and it was the most amazing feeling in the world to be doing it again!

Even better, instead of racing _against _his competitors, he was racing _with _them...his_ friends_. He never thought he'd be friends with a group of children but they were honestly some of the best people he had the pleasure of knowing. And the funny part? It for once didn't matter if he won first place or not...he was just happy to be racing again all together.

By the time the race was over, he'd placed third behind Vanellope and Taffyta, respectively. Not too shabby for his first time in several months. He even got everyone milkshakes at _BurgerTime_ when it was all over, and no one pushed him down or drenched him in ketchup this time...which is how it was supposed to be and how it was going to stay.

* * *

**Some Time in the Future...**

The arcade was open, so Turbo and Rosie were tucked away in bed as they usually were at this time. Rosie was sound asleep, curled up on her side and cuddled up next to her husband, who had an arm around her. He was having trouble sleeping, not because of a nightmare or unpleasant thoughts, but he just simply could not fall asleep. He sighed and decided some fresh air would do him some good, so he very carefully slid out of bed as to not wake Rosie up and walked over to the glass French doors that led to the balcony. The curtains stayed closed when they were sleeping for privacy reasons and also to keep out the glare of the multiple streetlamps that the game possessed.

Turbo closed the door silently behind him and got on his tiptoes and threw his arms up to stretch out, yawning in the process. He put his hands on the balcony's railing and looked out at the rest of East Niceland and in the distance could hear the sounds of Ralph tossing bricks and breaking windows and of Felix bouncing around. Apparently, they were in the middle of a game and from the sounds of it the gamer was easily racking up points. Turbo could just barely make out the gamer's face from where he stood on the balcony and he focused his eyes on the player.

Instead of a young child, it was a grown man. He had orange hair clipped close to his head and freckles, and his big baby blue eyes were focused intently on the game he was playing, concentrating on making Felix obey his commands without error. It took Turbo a minute to recognize him since he was still drowsy, but when he finally did he couldn't believe it.

It was Henry, the little shrimpy kid from back in the '80s that was one of _TurboTime'_s regular high-score players. He was obviously an adult now, somewhere close to forty and he had a few wrinkles around his eyes and some smile lines around his mouth but it was definitely him. Turbo wouldn't mistake that boyish grin anywhere. He found himself gripping the railing as he watched the man play, staring blankly in disbelief.

At last, Felix must have lost his last life and thus ending the game, because Henry made an aggravated sigh of defeat, hanging his head down and shaking it.

"It's okay, Dad, you still racked up a lot of points!" Turbo heard a little boy say from the side where he could not see him.

Henry turned his head in the direction that the boy's voice had come from and smiled warmly.

"Thanks, son, but if you had seen me back in the day, you would be saying I'd lost my touch. I used to be a lot better at this game when I was your age."

"Which one was your favorite?"

Turbo saw Henry smile again and he looked over to the opposite side of Felix's cabinet as if looking at something, a far away look in his blue eyes.

"My favorite was this old racing game called _TurboTime_," Henry related to his son and Turbo couldn't help but grin widely as a surge of pride came over him. "It might be considered old-school or retro now, but I used to play that game constantly. The little driver you played, his name was Turbo, and every time you won first place he'd get on the little trophy stand and say-"

At this part, Henry tried his best to imitate Turbo's voice and said "Turbo-tastic!".

The racer chuckled at that and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

"Dad_, please_, we're in _public."_

"Hey, it's my job to embarrass you," Henry joked and looked off to the side again, and Turbo figured out it was because that was where _TurboTime_ used to be located, right beside _Fix-It Felix, Jr. _

"Yeah, then the summer I turned twelve, your grandparents dragged me off on this road trip to see your great-grandparents for two weeks. When I came back, I went straight here to make up for lost time and ol' Turbo was gone. Mr. Litwak, the owner, said it got all buggy and he had to get rid of it. Let's just say, I was pretty upset about that. I never did like another game as much as that one."

Turbo had to wipe his eyes. He had thought that everybody in the Real World had forgotten all about _TurboTime_, but not good ol' Henry. He had been the one to come back to play only to find no one there.

Henry turned his head back to his son and said, "Well, I guess that explains why I work for NASCAR, huh?"

"Yeah, but not as a driver, as a _pit crew_ guy."

Turbo didn't know what NASCAR was but the boy's comment was enough for him to deduce that it had something to do with racing. The father and son eventually walked off away from the screen, neither knowing that their seemingly pointless conversation had held any real value to someone silently listening. Turbo wiped his eyes again, thinking proudly to himself that he had been enough of an inspiration to someone to actually help them determine what their career choice would be.

With lifted spirits, he left the balcony and went back to bed, this time accidentally waking Rosie up. He wordlessly kissed her in apology before positioning himself on his side facing towards her so he could draw her in for a good snuggle session, and with arms wrapped around each other and his head resting against hers, they both went peacefully back to sleep.

* * *

_I don't wanna be anything other than what I've been trying to be lately. All I have to do is think of me and have peace of mind. (Gavin Degraw, I Don't Wanna Be)  
_

* * *

_**Epilogue**_

After time, he became just another face in the crowd.

Well, maybe not exactly, since he _was_ the closest thing to a living legend that the arcade possessed...but he wasn't picked on or bullied any longer. In fact, people warmed up to him after only a few months of being out and about and wouldn't hesitate to chat or just give him a pat on the back in passing.

_"Hey, Turbs, how you doin' today?"_

_"Nice day to go out driving, eh?"_

_"You wanna swing by the party I'm throwing this weekend? Bring the wife!"_

He might not lead the most exciting life these days, but retirement suited him well. He raced whenever the arcade was closed with his new racer friends, not caring what place he won because it was just for fun now. Somehow, not racing for a trophy made the experience more enjoyable. No stress, no pressure to win; just go out there and enjoy yourself. If he _did_ go to a party or even a routine trip to Tapper's, he only allowed himself a maximum of two drinks...three during special occasions with his wife's permission.

He didn't have parties thrown in his honor or trophies lining the walls of his house, but he had friends and family that loved him and that was all he ever really needed...all he ever really wanted.

If you're looking to find him and share a cup of hot chocolate, at this time of day he's usually in a flower-filled meadow watching cotton candy clouds with his arm around that pretty wife of his, just basking in the quiet simple moments of life.

And if you ask him, he will gladly tell you that for the first time in all his existence, his life was truly...

Turbo-tastic.

_**~THE END~**_

* * *

_Well, folks, that's a wrap! I think I'm going to leave this particular universe I've created alone and just let Turbo have his happy ending. If I ever return to it, it would be some light-hearted fic that probably wouldn't even focus on him fully. Maybe something with the kids or maybe a more humorous adventure story, who knows. _

_I have a couple ideas for some AU's, one a drabble fic type thing about Turbo living in my (tiny) apartment in the same style as that one-shot I wrote "Have Some Candy". Another one is a fantasy world AU focusing primarily on Vanellope, partially inspired by the Syfy miniseries "Tin Man"... an amnesiac princess returning to her home world type plot. Both should be fun, so hopefully you guys check them out when I get them up and going, whenever that may be._

_Again, MANY thanks to everyone that has reviewed, favorited, and followed my "It's a Turbo-Tastic Life" trilogy as I have decided to call it. It has been a wonderful ride and I am so glad to have shared it with you. You're all wonderful and hope that you enjoyed reading along as much as I enjoyed writing it. Keep on being turbo-tastic! Ciao for now!_

_~Dixie Darlin~ _


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